Burning Away the Mist
by Chocomint3
Summary: Yachiru messes with nature when she tries to speed up her aging process. In finding a different dimension, she discovers that there is more to the world than she once thought. The fuses have been lit, and Yachiru is about to find out that all actions have consequences. DISCONTINUED. CHANCE OF CONTINUATION LOW. Thank you for all your support!
1. The Trip

Prologue: The Trip

"Ne, ne~ Mayurin, could you make me older?" Yachiru bounded into the Twelfth Division's labs, completely ignoring the glares and exasperated looks directed towards her.

"Hmmm? A willing test subject?" Completely unfazed by her sudden appearance, the scientist turned to face her, a test tube in one hand and a syringe in the other. "Normally, I would accept, but I have already completed my field of research on gigais. That field is completely uninteresting to me now. Go play with your dolls or something, Lieutenant Kusajishi."

"You didn't answer my question, Mayurin! I said I wanted you to make me older, not to make a gigai for me!" the pink-haired lieutenant, frowning slightly.

The scientist turned away, pouring the bubbling contents of the test tube into a beaker of clear liquid. "I am a very busy person, lieutenant. Go away."

"Mayurin!" the lieutenant protested, pouting. Then she made to leave, muttering, "Fine. I'll go ask Boshi. He would do a better job than you anyway."

Under all those layers of make up, Mayuri twitched almost noticeably. "You can be Test Subject Number One."

Yachiru perked up immediately. "Really? Yay! Call me when you're done, kay?" She smiled widely. Not waiting for a response, she flash-stepped away.

Mayuri twitched again, almost crushing the fragile syringe in his hand. "That...tch." He snarled and grabbed a nearby clipboard, setting down the syringe on the counter to replace it with a pen as he prepared to take notes on the contents of the beaker.

* * *

Despite Mayuri's widely-acclaimed genius, it took him a day to call Yachiru to his laboratory. Almost as soon as the hell butterfly delivered its message, Yachiru flash-stepped away with a whoop of pent-up excitement. It was a good thing that Mayuri hadn't been too specific in the message, and Kenpachi was left baffled but not angry.

Yachiru burst into the brightly-lit lab room talking. "You're so slow Mayurin! I bet Boshi could have done it faster!"

Mayuri twitched, once again. "It couldn't be helped. I had many other things to take care of." He held up a syringe containing orange liquid that seemed to be bubbling slightly. "Come here, and sit down. This won't hurt at all, sadly."

Yachiru hastened to comply, literally jumping into the proffered seat.

"Nemu, take notes," the scientist ordered as he positioned the syringe at Yachiru's neck.  
A prick of pain sparked as the needle plunged into her skin. The contents of the syringe slowly emptied into Yachiru's bloodstream. Nemu waited, pen hovering over the blank paper.

Quite contrary to their expectations, nothing happened.

Mayuri scowled. "I'm sure that should have worked. It will come into effect some time from now, presumably. Nemu, keep a close watch on our test subject and take notes."

Yachiru blinked. She didn't feel any different. She pouted. "You lied to me, Mayurin. You said it wouldn't hurt at all."

Mayuri asked eagerly, "Oh, does it hurt a lot?"

Yachiru humphed and turned to glare at him. "No, but it hurt a tiny bit when you inserted the needle. You lied."

"Trivial matters. Now get out. I have more important things to do than argue with you." Mayuri waved the now empty syringe at her dismissively.

Scowling, Yachiru leapt out of the chair and flash-stepped to the door, making sure to slam it shut with an inordinate amount of strength as she left. Nemu quickly flash-stepped after her.

* * *

She found Kenpachi easily and quickly fell into step beside him; she didn't feel like hanging on his shoulder like she usually did. "Hey Ken-chan!"

She paused, smile fading. His name... it sounded strange to her. Ugly, almost. She tried again, muttering experimentally, "Ken-chan...Kenpachi?" Ah, that sounded better. Yachiru blinked, looking up at Kenpachi. Why did he stop walking? And why was he _looking_ at her like that?

"Eh, Kenpa-" What if he was angry? She hurriedly changed course. "-chan? What happened?"

Kenpachi examined her for a few uncomfortable seconds. Then he asked, "What did that bastard want with you? Did he do anything to you?"

Yachiru looked around. Where was Nemu? Then she looked back at Kenpachi. "I- asked him for special candy." She grinned widely. "It was tasty."

Kenpachi was still looking at her strangely, but he seemed to accept her answer. "Are you feeling ill?"

Frowning, she shook her head. "Nope. I feel fine. Why?"

"We're going to the Fourth Division. Come on."

Yachiru tilted her head and hurried after her captain. "I feel fine, Ken-chan!" She grimaced inwardly, her head spinning. When had that nickname alienated itself from her? Probably some stupid side effect of that liquid... She had to say, she didn't really like it; it was a bit too far out of her comfort zone.

Kenpachi didn't look at her, merely increasing his pace slightly. "We're still going. That bastard..."

His visible eye narrowed, and the rest of the walk was encompassed in an unfamiliar silence.

* * *

The first person they met upon reaching the Fourth Division's barracks was none other than Hanatarou, Seventh Seat. He squeaked when he saw them and immediately swiveled around, probably intending to either A) get away from Kenpachi as fast as he could, or B) hide behind his captain. Yachiru didn't blame him, Kenpachi's expression was a bit unsettling for her as well.

But what he planned to do, he never got around to executing, because he didn't even take three steps before Kenpachi strolled up to him and stopped him in his tracks.

"Take me to Unohana."

It was probably so strange to hear Kenpachi say anything other than, "Let's fight to the death! Hahaha!" that Hanatarou froze. Yachiru stifled a giggle. His mind was probably having trouble wrapping around the situation.

But then his survival instincts kicked in, because he stuttered, "Y-yes! T-this way, p-please!" and hurried into the main building, Kenpachi right behind him and Yachiru trailing behind.

Idly, Yachiru wondered if Nemu was still following them. She cast her senses out, searching for Nemu's reiatsu, and spotted a faint signature almost right behind her.

Unobtrusively, Yachiru tilted her head slightly, expecting to see Nemu from out of the side of her eyes. Instead, she was greeted with nothing but air. Invisibility, maybe?

Yachiru grinned. She _had_ to get her hands on that ability. Quickly, she sketched plans to pop in on the mad scientist and bother him later.

By the time she finished her plans, Hanatarou had led them to a halt in front of a closed room. He glanced nervously at the intimidating captain behind him and mumbled, "Unohana-taichou is currently treating a patient. P-please wait a moment-"

" F*ck that! Move aside!" Impatient, he shoved Hanatarou to the side and unceremoniously burst through the door. "Unohana! We need to talk!"

Unohana smiled at him as though having the Eleventh Division's captain bust down her door was a normal occurrence. "Of course, Kenpachi- taichou. Just wait a moment." She turned back to the bed, saying pleasantly to the bandaged man, "If you don't strain yourself, you'll be out of here in three days. Excuse me." She looked at Kenpachi, smile still in place. "Kenpachi-taichou. Perhaps we should move to my office."

Kenpachi frowned. "That isn't necessary-" Her smile turned ominous. "-But sure, whatever."

"Do come back and fix the door later, will you?" Unohana swept past him, smiling at Yachiru and Hanatarou as she passed.

As they walked down the hall, Unohana spoke. "What might I help you with, Kenpachi-taichou?"

Kenpachi eyed Yachiru meaningfully, prompting Yachiru to blurt out, "I told you already, Kenpachi! I'm. Perfectly. Fine!"

Kenpachi looked at Unohana. "That."

Unohana smiled, stopping. "Ah. That," she agreed cheerfully. "Hanatarou-kun, please go assist Lieutenant Ise. She should be in the west wing."

Hanatarou, who had been trailing behind with a slightly lost look, nodded earnestly. "Yes, Unohana-taichou!"

As soon as Hanatarou left, Kenpachi said, clearly agitated, "She's been acting weird ever since she got back from when that bastard Mayuri called for her."

Yachiru frowned, but didn't say anything.

"Has she?" Unohana didn't look worried at all. In fact, her expression didn't change at all.

Kenpachi, obviously at the end of his rope, scowled. "Don't mess with me! She's acting weird! Scowling more, not being as cheerful, all that-!"

Unohana's smile didn't waver. "Don't worry. Yachiru is just transitioning from being a child to being a teenager."

She was greeted with one incredulous look and one bright smile. "Are you sh*tting me? She was only at that bastard's place for a few minutes, and she's suddenly experiencing a transition from being a child to being a teenager?" He swore some more. "I'm going to kill that bastard!"

There was a silence. Then Yachiru asked, with an hint of smugness, "So this is- normal, right, Unohana-taichou?"

"It is. If you want a prescription, I recommend going on vacation to Europe- Germany, perhaps? It's a good way for you two get everything sorted out. I'll even ask Yamamoto-taichou for you, if you want."

Yachiru positively beamed at the her and turned to Kenpachi, practically hopping in excitement. "Can we go, Ken-chan, can we, can we? Germany has good candy!"

Kenpachi looked down at her, expression unreadable. Then he grinned. "Sure. Maybe I'll get to bash someone."

The pink-haired girl smiled so widely, she thought her face might crack in half. "Ve~! Let's leave tomorrow!"

* * *

And that was how Kenpachi and his unofficial charge ended up on the bustling streets of Berlin, Germany, on a sunny and windy day. Yachiru danced through the crowd, easily visible. Kenpachi frowned speculatively as he followed at a more leisurely pace. Was it just him, or was she... taller? If he hadn't been looking for signs of change, he wouldn't have noticed- they were together almost all the time, and this affected his view of her.

"Yachiru," Kenpachi called out. "Get back here!" A businessman wearing an immaculate gray suit flinched as he passed, walking faster; if he was any self-respecting person, he would stay away from the black-haired giant of a man who looked like a gang member.

Yachiru must have heard his call, because she twirled and promptly ran back to Kenpachi, who grinned despite himself. She seemed almost inordinately happy, especially when he considered her fluctuating mood yesterday. Happy was good, and he didn't mind- but the implications... Now that, he dreaded to deal with, especially when he remembered Unohana's rather nonchalant warning. "_If she starts bleeding from the genital area, don't worry- it shouldn't hurt unless she cramps; she'll have mood swings- that's normal for a teenager- and you should probably watch her sugar intake for a while. She'll start getting acne soon if she doesn't cut down on her sweets."_

"What did Mayuri want with you?" He looked down at her and saw that her smile had faded.

She looked away, answering quietly, "It wasn't his fault, Kenpachi. I asked for it."

"He did something to you, didn't he?" He had trouble preventing himself from snarling. _That bastard..._

Still not meeting his eyes, Yachiru frowned, shifting slightly. When she next spoke, her voice trembled slightly. "Is that all you care about?"

"What?" Kenpachi blinked. Silently, he cursed. _Another mood swing._ Where was Unohana when he needed her?

Then Yachiru shook her head and tried for a smile. She half-succeeded. "I'll go on ahead. I saw a sweets shop ahead of us in in the alley- it seems really nice!"

And with that, she ran off into the crowd again, acting as if nothing happened; and maybe, nothing did.

Kenpachi shifted uncomfortably, her words ringing in his head. _Is that all you care about?_ He swore under his breath and hurried to catch up to her- she was just rounding the corner of the next block.

He darted around a woman -she glared at him- and her wide-eyed child, turning the corner just in time to see Yachiru wrench open the strangely not transparent door (what kind of shop didn't have a see-through door?) and trip over the door sill. The door shut behind her with a click.

Quickly, he dashed forward and opened the door, expecting Yachiru to be still on the floor. He blinked in confusion and looked around.

Yachiru was nowhere to be seen.

**A/N: Hi. As you can see, I censored my words. Hopefully it doesn't interfere with the reading experience.****  
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**Please do drop a review, even if it's only one sentence, like "Sounds interesting." Or "You suck, go die." I'd like to know what you think; constructive criticism is welcome, as are lengthly complaints and discussions about the characters or story in general, etc. I'm a pretty open person, so I won't snap at you even if you're extremely rude and totally just crushed my ego.  
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	2. First Steps

**A/N: I assume Amestris is equivalent of Germany, so they'll be speaking German. Also, when I said fifteen years into the future of FMA, I meant that Selim is fifteen now, so Ed is 30, etc.  
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**(1) She's trying to say "Ich verhstehe nicht," which means _I don't understand._**

**(2) It sounds closer to 'Yachiru' than you think. Via Google Translate, of course. (Objections/Corrections welcome!)**

Chapter One: First Steps

The first thing Yachiru noticed was that the floor was dusty and made of stone tiles. The second thing she noticed was that she tripped, which was something that had never happened to her before. The third thing she noticed was that a woman wearing an old-fashioned dress stood over her, saying something in a wary yet concerned tone.

Yachiru looked up at the woman, uncomprehending. When their eyes met, the woman sucked in a breath. Her face hardened, warm brown eyes darkening, and she scowled, asking in a colder tone, "Nun?" (Well?)

Yachiru blinked and got up, looking around curiously as she did so.

The shop was unlike any she had seen before- it was small, and shelves of bread lined the back wall; a door led to a room of much activity. There was a long tiled counter a few feet from the shelves with a cash register and a spin dial phone. A few seats surrounded small wooden tables pushed up against the side walls, and a single fat light bulb hung from the ceiling, unlit. Sunlight streamed in from behind her, stretching her shadow.

She looked back at the woman, who clearly was waiting for a response. Yachiru opened her mouth and clumsily said the one German phrase she knew other than 'guten tag.' "Iku feru shite e nitu." (1)

The woman's scowl deepened, and her brown eyes flashed. "Was?" (What?)

"Iku feru shite e nitu." Yachiru shook her head emphatically.

The woman stared at the short girl in front of her for a while longer before the confusion evident on her face lifted. Her face softened, and her tone gentled. "Du verstehst mich nicht, oder?"

Yachiru, recognizing the second and fourth words as two of the words in the phrase Unohana had taught her, nodded quickly and smiled. 'Du' must mean 'you', and 'oder' must be 'right.' Yachiru didn't see the point of remembering the words, though, since Kenpachi was no doubt trying to find her, wherever she was, and would come get her at any moment.

The woman walked around her; Yachiru turned and looked outside when the woman motioned at the windowed doors (Yachiru frowned- wasn't there only one door, and wasn't that door not transparent?) as she passed. Outside, the occasional obsolete car or brightly painted truck passed, and people walked by. The woman pointed at Yachiru, and then looked back outside, as if waiting for something.

Soon, a child ran past, dark blonde curls flying behind her as she laughed. A woman hurried past shortly after, looking worried and calling out something. The bakery woman quickly jabbed her finger at the worried lady before turning to look at Yachiru. "Mutter?"

Now it was Yachiru's turn to look confused. She tried to puzzle out what the woman meant. She had pointed at her, then at the woman -the mother of that little girl- outside... could she be asking where her mother was? Then, 'mutter' must mean 'mother.' Happy that she figured it out, Yachiru had to suppress her smile when she remembered the seriousness of the question- though it didn't seem that serious to her.

Yachiru shook her head. She didn't have a mother; she only had Kenpachi, and he was all she needed.

The woman nodded, looking at her with unmistakable pity. Yachiru's hands curled up slightly as she felt a twinge of anger. She wasn't helpless!

The woman pointed at herself, saying, "Paula."

Yachiru blinked, anger forgotten, and mimicked the bakery woman. "Yachiru. Guten tagu, Paura."

Paula smiled at her. "Guten tag, Jatschilu." (2)

Then she walked behind the counter and picked up a loaf of bread with one hand, fishing out some coins with the other. She dropped the coins on the counter and walked back to Yachiru, holding out the bread.

"Hier. Dies ist die heutige gute Tat." (Here. This is today's good deed.)

Yachiru took it with both hands, breathing in the faint smell of the cold bread; it smelled different from the bread she was used to and was brown and hard, not white and fluffy.

She smiled at Paula, saying, "Thank you, Paura."

Paula smiled, as Yachiru bowed slightly and left the bakery, bell jingling behind her as the door shut.

Yachiru looked around and flared her reiatsu, hoping to help Kenpachi find her. The world was definitely not what she remembered, but perhaps it was Germany's version of Seireitei. Kenpachi should be able to get in with no complications- after all, somehow, she had gotten in. Paula didn't have much of a reiatsu though, and neither did any of the people who roamed the streets; maybe she was in Germany's Rukongai, not Seireitei? She paid no attention to the strange stares she was given, and cast out her senses, searching for a bigger reiatsu.

Immediately, she felt a reiatsu so great she almost staggered- it was nearby. It felt strange, and had a kind of cold feel. It wasn't much like Kenpachi's reiatsu- since when had Kenpachi's reiatsu felt cold?- but it was just as smothering; it could just be a side-effect of the injection, or the gigai, or being in a different place... She ran without hesitation toward the source of the monstrous reiatsu, hugging her bread to her chest.

_Please_, the girl thought almost desperately as she weaved around the various people and rounded corners in attempt to reach the reiatsu. _Please, be Ken-chan... _And a smaller voice whispered, _I don't want to be alone..._

She skidded to a stop in front of a large, multilevel building reminiscent of the building of the school Ichigo attended, panting uncharacteristically. The sun was halfway through its descent from the sky, and the distant clock tower tolled three times, the deep sound reverberating through the town: _Dong! Dong! Dong!_

There was a collective, muffled yell, and soon children streamed out of the building, laughing and talking in that strange language of theirs, smooth and flowing and guttural.

The monstrous reiatsu was behind the building. She ran through the crowd of students, rounding the building and entering a clearing occupied by three people: a pale teenager with black hair and dark eyes, and two older men who seemed to be in their late twenties or early thirties, both with blonde hair and startling golden eyes. The man with the longer blonde hair- Ponytail-chan, Yachiru decided- and the teenager were crouched in the dirt over some kind of circle-drawing. The man with short blonde hair- Tall-chan- stood to the side.

Yachiru glanced around, confused. Where was Kenpachi? She cast out her senses again, trying to pinpoint the source of the reiatsu that she had followed there, but it smothered any other, smaller reiatsu and seemed to have no particular source aside from the general area she was in.

She blurted compulsively, "Where's Ken-chan? He has to be here, right?" There was no one else who had as big a reiatsu as Kenpachi... Kenpachi was the strongest, and he tied with no one... but this reiatsu... it wasn't Kenpachi's. As soon as the young shinigami came to this revelation, her mind frantically tried to shove it away, but it latched onto her, sinking its teeth in like a dog holding on to its favorite shoe. She couldn't deny this truth.

While she was drowning in her own thoughts, her eye faintly took in the people's response: Ponytail-chan looked at her strangely and glanced up at Tall-chan, who shook his head. Panic rising within her and spilling out of its normally locked chest, Yachiru stared at the two men with unseeing eyes as the full brunt of her situation barreled into her.

Kenpachi wasn't here, and she had no idea how to leave, she couldn't communicate with these people, she didn't know her way around, and she couldn't even get out of her gigai, because Kenpachi wasn't here, and he had her soul candies. _Kenpachi wasn't here._

What was she going to do? Kenpachi was _always_ with her- even when they were separated, they weren't too far away from each other. She could always track him down, easy as pie, and be next to him in a flash, but now, as far as she could tell, Kenpachi didn't even _exist_ in wherever she was.

For the first time in her life, Yachiru felt lost. She hugged her bread closer to her body, took a few steps back. Then she sat on the ground, looking very much like a girl who had her world pulled out from right underneath her feet. To complete the look, she should have cried, even a bit, but crying wasn't on her list of possible actions- crying was a sign of weakness, and Kenpachi scorned weak people... She took a deep, only slightly trembling breath. _Calm down, Yachiru, _She thought to herself. _Ken-chan will be here soon. He's never failed before, and he won't fail now. You just have to survive until then._

Survive. Yes, that was something she knew how to do... in a battle. This... this place she was in, it wasn't a battle- _no,_ Yachiru corrected herself; _it's not a battle I'm familiar with._ But there was one thing she knew she could do- and that was attach herself to people who could survive in the world. Yachiru frowned. The only person she knew in this world was Paula, and she wasn't sure if Paula would be willing to- or if she was able to- take her in. Especially since she didn't look like a child anymore.

It was worth a shot, Yachiru decided. After all, Paula did give her bread.

As she made up her mind and was about to get up, she realized that the dark-haired teenager from before stood in front of her, stick held loosely his left hand. His right hand was extended toward her, and his face was adorned with a small smile.

"Wie geht es Ihnen?" He asked quietly. He paused, eyeing her. "Können Sie mich verstehen?" (How are you [feeling]? Can you understand me?)

Verstehen means... understand... Yachiru shook her head. She half reached out to take his outstretched hand before changing her mind and getting up by herself. She dusted off her now free hand, rubbing it on her shirt and dislodging a shower of crumbs.

The boy returned his hand to his side and looked at the ground, dragging the tip of his stick through the dirt. "Dies..." (This...) the boy muttered, circling what looked like a cross and tapping the edge of the circle. He looked at her expectantly. "Hilfe?" (Help?) He frowned. "Bangzhu?" (Help in Chinese/Xingese)

Yachiru looked at him, then at the ground, and back at him. Then she pointed at herself. "Ya-chi-ru."

"Hallo, Ja...tschilu. Ich bin Selim." (I am Selim.) Selim flashed her a polite smile before returning his gaze to the ground again, frowning. Then he sketched a person with a hand raised, with an open mouth. The circle with a cross issued from the person's mouth.

Yachiru stared at the cross, brow furrowed. Cross... "Ah!" Yachiru exclaimed. "Hospital!" Then she frowned; she wasn't injured. So... help?

She beamed at Selim and nodded. "Yes, please."

Selim smiled genuinely at her and turned, motioning for her to follow him. They walked over to Ponytail-chan and Tall-chan, who had moved over to the building wall and were conversing with a lady with long blonde hair and her companion, a lady with long black hair.

Selim coughed as they neared the four older people, who ceased their lively conversation to inspect Yachiru. Yachiru shifted slightly, becoming unexpectedly aware of her appearance. Selim gestured toward her, saying something; Yachiru was sure she had heard him mention her name at least once. He also mentioned 'mother' at one point.

Ponytail-chan looked at Selim, golden eyes flashing with an unfamiliar look. "Warum? Mitleid ist nicht erwünscht." (Why? Pity is not welcomed.)

Selim colored slightly, clearly unhappy with what Ponytail-chan just said. "Es ist nicht Mitleid. Ich will ihr nur helfen. Meister-" (It's not pity. I want to help her. Mister/Master-)

Ponytail-chan cut him off, waving his hand dismissively. "Tu, was du möchtest." (Do what you want.)

Negative mood evaporating, Selim smiled. "Danke, Meister" (Thank you, Mister/Master!)

And thus, Yachiru began her first step to comfortable survival: she began to learn the Amestrian language.

**A/N: When Yachiru speaks in Japanese, it'll be translated into English. Later on, if/when she becomes more fluent in German, the German phrases will be translated into English, as will her attempts to speak the language. If I change PoV's to an Amestrian's PoV, Yachiru's Japanese will appear as romanji. The names will be accented, unless you guys have complaints. Yachiru'll be limited to mostly nouns when she talks with others (and that's only after she gets past the picture phase), so again, if you guys want me to just write it in proper English, tell me and I'll shift to proper English. Because communication problems, while realistic, really don't do much to get the story rolling.**

**I used Google Translate for the German phrases, with a few exceptions... (Please correct me if I made any mistakes!)  
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**A time skip should be in order; since I'm pretty much freelancing this, your opinions will be taken into consideration! ****If you guys have any complaints at all, tell me and I'll do my best to accommodate you and/or explain my reasons for doing something. **

**Notice: My life'll get a lot busier soon, but I'll do my best to update at least once a week. I hope the longest span between updates will be two or three weeks- just drop a review to remind me about the story, or PM me and ask me to update, if I get too caught up with academics (I hope that will never happen...). I should have started this story earlier...  
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**Okay, I know I'm forgetting something... nevermind, I'm not forgetting anything. Please drop a review; it's more convenient than ever! I'd love to know what you didn't like, what you liked, what you think will happen next, what you think should happen next, what you hope I don't [have them] do... any questions are welcome as well!  
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**Sysy, signing out.  
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**EDIT: Thanks to Vul for correcting my German. The Internet translators aren't reliable at all. I hope I fixed all the mistakes.  
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**Update (9/4/12):** Cramming summer homework, plus hit a roadblock (a pity. I'm working on it). No updates soon, but hopefully by next week.


	3. Yachiru Dies Twice

**A/N: Hello! It's been a while since my last update, and this one I edited and edited again, and I'm still not satisfied with it, but oh well. I think it's alright.**

**Since I don't know the outcome of this, I'm changing the genre from Friendship/Romance to Friendship/Family. Seeing as I've never been in a relationship, much less in love, it's going to be hard for me to write romance. (Not like I'm going to force them together, anyway.) I still think they'd be pretty compatible... we'll see. We'll see. Anyway, enough rambling about something I'm sure you all don't even care to hear about. **

Chapter Two: Yachiru Dies. Twice.

As she sank deeper into the steaming water, Yachiru decided that the one thing she hated more than criticism was pity. Criticism, at the very least, pointed out her flaws, so she could grow stronger when the sting faded, but pity, to her, showed only that the others saw her as weak- helpless- and that they thought they were better than her.  
When Tall-chan and Wrench-chan had looked at her just an hour before, there was pity in their eyes. It was striking, and not in a good way. She wasn't too familiar with the feeling, and it took her awhile- almost an hour- to realize what it was and where she had seen it. She had seen it directed at Hanatarou- and it was directed so often toward him that he had conditioned himself to ignore it. Guilt coursed through her. Strength came in many different shapes and sizes, she realized. And Hanatarou's strength, she had grossly overlooked.

She didn't possess the strength Hanatarou had. As much as she hated to admit it, she had many flaws.

After the initial anger had dissipated, she had rather uncharacteristically forced herself to see what they might have seen.

A young girl sitting on the dusty ground, with crimson eyes that stared into nothing, dulled with loss and fear and who knows what else, arms clutching a loaf of bread as if it was the anchor that would stop her from floating into the murky unknown- that must have been what they had seen. For a human not to show any hint of compassion or pity when faced with _that_... well, how could he call himself human?

This thought brought her to the peculiar not-Asian with hair and eyes black as the night- Selim. She had seen no trace of pity in his eyes- not when he first saw her, nor when he watched her world shatter, nor when he offered her sanctuary. She only saw a fleeting hint of guilt.

Guilt wasn't a feeling Yachiru knew much about, but she'd seen enough of it often enough to recognize it relatively quickly. Usually, guilt showed when people looked at the people they connected to whatever bad things they had done... which meant that Selim had connected her with something bad he had done and was trying to make up for it by offering her a place to live and a chance to learn the language the people here spoke.

This much was clear. The confusion set in with the fact that she had never met Selim in her life. Because if they had never met, how could Selim feel guilty because of her?

Yachiru scowled, sinking deeper into the water. She despised uncertainties and questions she couldn't solve, but she felt like if she thought anymore, her brain would implode. And she had already spent too long soaking in the bathtub; her fingers were becoming slightly wrinkled.

Yachiru pulled herself up, hands slipping slightly on the tub's wet surface. She grabbed a fragrant bar of soap and quickly began to rub her body down, wanting to submerge herself in the warm water again as soon as possible.

When she reached her chest area, however, she froze, and the soap bar in her hand slipped from her grasp to fall with a plink-thunk into the tub.

Disbelief and then happiness flitted across her face.

"It worked!" Overjoyed, the pink haired shinigami threw her hands into the air, giving a little hop.

Unfortunately, her foot landed on the bar of soap at the bottom of the bathtub, which slid out from under her. She crashed into the water. Pain jolted through her and temporarily robbed her of her sight as the side of the tub jarred the back of her head. She instinctively sucked in a breath and she took in a mouthful of soapy water.

Spluttering and coughing, Yachiru clumsily sat up, one hand braced against the tub and the other reaching up to her head. As soon as she touched her hair, however, a wave of pain slammed into her, almost sending her into her inner world.

Yachiru jerked her hand away from her head, bringing it in front of her face. Blood trickled down her hand, mixing with the beads of water on her palm. Next to the weird white specks on the pale skin of her palm, the blood looked too vibrant.

Blinking slowly, Yachiru twisted around to look at the place where she had hit her head. She should probably wash off the blood, or something.

For the second time that hour, Yachiru froze. Her gigai lay half submerged into the water. How did she get out? That wasn't supposed to happen! Wait... what was that? Yachiru turned an ear to the door.

She could just make out the pattering of light, rapid footsteps outside. Someone was approaching, and fast.

Hastily, she turned around, preparing to get back into her gigai.

The bathroom door slammed open, and the Asian looking lady from earlier- her name was Mei, or something- burst into the room. Black eyes focused on Yachiru's gigai, and the lady quickly took action, crossing the bathroom in a few short strides. Much to Yachiru's embarrassment, she examined her body (gigai) and seemed to note the wound on her head. Briskly, Mei grabbed the towel hanging on the rack next to her, laying it on the ground. She lifted Yachiru's gigai, oblivious to Yachiru's attempts to stop her from moving it, and placed her (it) on the towel, wrapped said towel around her (it), and left the room.

Yachiru unfroze, flush fading from her cheeks. Her gigai! She had to get back into it! Quickly, she flash-stepped outside, where the lady had laid her gigai face down onto the ground. Five shuriken were stabbed into floor around her head.

Urgency forgotten, Yachiru tilted her head. What was the lady going to do with that? She could afford to wait and see for a little while.

* * *

Oblivious to the curious observer standing behind her, Mei pressed her palms onto the ground. Mei focused her eyes onto the wound on the girl's head and tried to find the streams of chi in her patient's body. Mei frowned. She couldn't see any life force from the girl, and the array, she noticed, hadn't lit up.

How could this be? The wound wasn't that deep and it was in no way fatal. Cautiously, Mei flipped the girl around and leaned down, feeling for even a whisper of breath against her cheek.

Nothing.

Mei pressed her ear to the girl's chest, listening intently.

Silence.

She began to straighten, then froze as another realization hit her.

The girl was cold, like a corpse.

Impossible. The girl had been alive just a second ago, when she had hit her head. No corpse cooled that quickly. Mei's eyes narrowed. What was going on? She rose to her feet, turning to fetch the Elric brothers. And Selim- Yachiru was his responsibility, after all.

A slight breeze hit her, like one left in the wake of a person hurrying past, and violent coughing shattered the silence of the hall.

Mei spun around again, disbelief and shock written all over her usually elegant features.

Yachiru's sanguine eyes met Mei's, and although they held no hint of malice, Mei stepped back. Impossible. The girl was dead just seconds ago!

Memories of Homunculi filled her vision, red eyes glowing and demented smiles splitting open their faces as their bodies crackled with red lightning, wounds mending right in front of her eyes.

"Ms. Chang! Are you alright?" As Mei wrenched herself back into the present, she registered Selim's words and answered automatically.

"Everything's fine." She did not meet his worried eyes as suspicion rose inside her. When had Selim arrived? Could there possibly be a hidden reason for why Selim had offered Yachiru sanctuary?

Mindful of the situation at hand, Mei filed her suspicions away and looked at the pink-haired girl, who was now sitting up.

Fingers tightening their hold on her towel, the girl shifted her eyes away from Mei's face and looked past her. After a pregnant silence, she mumbled in a slightly hoarse, barely audible voice, "Go...sai."

Mei blinked. "What?" She asked in Amestrian.

The girl coughed and said louder, "Gomen'nasai." _Sorry._

The Xingese princess blinked again, composure returning almost as quickly as it had fled. This girl... she was from the country of Ri Chu? (Chinese/Xingese for sunrise.)

"Do not apologize," Mei replied smoothly in Yachiru's native tongue. Her voice betrayed nothing as she slipped easily into the mask she had refined from years of embroilment in Xingese Court politics. She had to keep an eye on this strange girl- if she even was one. "Perhaps you should like to wear a more comfortable garb?"

Inwardly, Mei winced. She only knew how to speak the formal Court language; the informal, less educated half of the language spoken by the peasants of Ri Chu did not seem worth learning, at the time.

As Yachiru scrambled to her feet, red staining her previously sheet-white cheeks, Mei noticed that Selim, while polite enough to studiously not look at the practically naked girl next to him, had no qualms about staring intently at Mei. Whatever happened to respect to elders?

Mei muttered some very unladylike words to herself, entertaining the almost nonexistent possibility that the teenager had elevated hormone levels and was only enraptured by her stunning beauty. Of course, she didn't fancy being the object of such lu- looks, but the alternative was far worse. Better to have a teenage stalker (or, Mei shuddered inwardly, a _fanboy_) than an omnipotent, possibly evil Homunculus- but maybe she was thinking too deeply into this. No need to jump to such horrific conclusions.

Time to execute a strategic retreat. Mei spun on her heel, hand shooting out and wrapping around Yachiru's smaller one.

"Come; let's find some clothes for you." As Mei strode away, she noted that the girl's hand was warm, despite the fact that only a little while ago she had been cold as stone.

* * *

Yachiru had to half jog, half speed-walk to keep up with the Asian woman's fast pace. Fighting to keep the smile off her face and the bounce out of her steps, Yachiru looked at the woman beside her, wondering if she should say something.

Normally, she would have just said whatever was on her mind, but something told her that speaking anything, even nonsense or something about candy, would be a bad idea. So they walked down the corridor in silence.

Mei stopped, opened a door, and led her into a bedroom. There was an open window, framed by heavy curtains, on the opposite side of the room, and semitransparent gauze fluttered in the gentle breeze. (Why would there be two sets of curtains for only one window?)

White light spread itself across the floorboards. The bed was big enough for two, and a mahogany colored wardrobe stood opposite the bed. Yachiru let a smile spread across her face. The room was plain, but she liked it.

"This is your room," Mei explained, releasing Yachiru and walking the wardrobe. Her body was obscured by its doors as she rummaged through it, and she emerged with a short-looking plain white dress. Something about the dress made it seem old- Yachiru couldn't figure out what it was.

Mei handed Yachiru the dress and shut the wardrobe doors, which closed with a creak and a click. Then she looked at Yachiru expectantly.

The shinigami met her gaze steadily, wondering when she would turn around. Curiously, the longer they stared at each other the farther away Mei seemed.

Deciding that the older lady wasn't going to turn around any time soon, Yachiru swiftly unwound the towel from her body and pulled the dress over her head. As she did so, she became aware of the fact that the back her head- where the wound was- wasn't aggravated, and hadn't been hurting for a while now.

Letting the white dress float down and cover her body, Yachiru gingerly touched where the wound had been. No pain assaulted her, and there was no blood on her hands.

This healing rate was abnormal even for a particularly powerful shinigami; she was fairly certain she hadn't been so quick to heal until recently- when she had poked her eye (Don't ask; it's a long story.) a while ago (she was never too certain about things like time), her eye had been... irritated... for the short while it had taken her to get to the Fourth Division barracks.

Yachiru pondered it for a minute longer, then shrugged it off. She made a noncommittal sound; faster healing is a good thing, so... no, it wasn't. What would Mei think, if she bore no wound? Yachiru opened her mouth to call Mei back from her thoughts, but the woman beat her to it, saying almost flippantly,

"There is no underwear, apologies." And was that a smirk tugging at Mei's lips? Yachiru scowled as Mei continued. "Selim is too impulsive, and you needed a bath; we weren't able to find underwear for you in the short amount of time we had. Would you like to wear this underneath instead?" The Asian lady held up a random pair of shorts that looked like they came from some boy's elementary school uniform.

Still scowling, Yachiru snatched the shorts away from the woman, tugging them on. To her chagrin, the shorts were much too long compared to the dress to be fashionable.

Now she looked like some kind of homeless person. Then Yachiru tried looking at the brighter side of things. At least she had clothes, a decent place to stay, and, as far as she knew, free food.

"So," Mei smiled pleasantly, but her black eyes narrowed, boring into Yachiru. "Would you like to tell me what happened back there?"

**A/N: This is more fast paced than I thought it would be... considering that I just wrote, and this is what happened, I guess I'll go with it. Thankfully it didn't destroy my plans (yes, I had a plan) and only pushed it back a chapter. I'm already writing the next chapter, and I'll have it up hopefully in less than fourteen days. **

**So, what do you guys think? I'd love to know!****  
**

**P.S. By the way, I suspect there's some bad logic in this chapter... if you find something, please notify me!  
**

**P.P.S. Could you tell that I'm a scatterbrain because of my writing style? Yachiru and Mei (whoever I'm writing, anyway) tend to lose themselves in space a lot... But Yachiru is justified! I always thought that she wasn't, ah, quite _there_. A forgetful person?  
**

**P.P.P.S. This is getting out of hand, but one more thing! I need some help on Kenpachi... I have NO idea how he reacts to Yachiru's disappearance. So, help on that, please?  
**

**P.P.P.P.P.S. Can anyone guess where the dress and the pants came from? XD  
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	4. Say Something, Say Nothing

**A/N: Hello, all. It's been a long time- a month and a half? Two months? Well, I'm back. This chapter was actually done since two weeks ago, but I was seriously unsatisfied with some parts of it. Then I decided to just post what I have. I'll rewrite later.**

**NaNoWriMo started on Nov. 1st, and I'll be attempting to participate in it. With this story, I think.  
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**For a brief while, I tried to learn German. It confused me to no end, so I stopped and just settled with picking up a phrase here, a word there, and relying on my English-German dictionaries and my beloved readers, who may or may not be still around. If you are, my affection to you! If you aren't, thanks for your support before.  
**

**Criticism is welcome. Feedback of any kind is welcome. Just please put some empathy or kindness into it, even if you feel nothing. A positive to balance the negative, and vice versa? Well, you could be cold and distant too. I just won't take it as well.  
**

**Update (11/03/12): Fixed foreign language mistakes and touched up a few parts. Nothing major changed.**

**Update (11/15/12): Put in line breaks. Since I'm reupdating this anyway, a word on the next chapter. It seems as though my chapters are getting progressively longer. :) That's good. Also, I've written chapter five, and I am planning on posting that come weekend, or maybe even sometime tomorrow. There are a few things I have to fix and work out before I post it. **

**Also, I noticed that this chapter has absolutely NO reviews. Of course, I won't not update because I got no reviews (for this chapter), but I have to say I am a bit disappointed. Was it something I said, or maybe there was just nothing _at all_ worth a few words and a bit of time? I'd like to hear what you have to say, positive or negative, so please don't hesitate to say it!  
**

In the Last Chapter...

_"So." Mei smiled pleasantly, but her black eyes narrowed, boring into Yachiru. "Would you like to tell me what happened back there?"_

Chapter Four: Say Something, Say Nothing

Yachiru stared at Mei, caught off guard. Stupid gigai, stupid Mayuri and his stupid errors- Mentally, Yachiru cursed. How was she going to brush this off? Mei didn't seem like the kind of woman who would let her off easily, so she couldn't act like she didn't know what the older woman was questioning her about. She had already hesitated for too long, so even if she had tried the innocent approach it wouldn't work; she also didn't want to draw attention to her lack of injury... Unless there was a distraction of some sort, she would have to make up a lie, or tell Mei the truth and subsequently break the rules.

Abruptly, Yachiru came to a decision. She tilted her head and tried to seem as innocent as possible. "Are you familiar with the term 'spirit'?"

Mei's eyes bored into her, and when she spoke, her voice was carefully tempered. "Spirit, or soul?"

"Soul?" Yachiru blinked. "That works too." Was there a difference? Not to her, but there seemed to be one to Mei- the lady stiffened slightly, and her hands clenched and unclenched. There was a silence that seemed to stretch on for hours. Neither of them moved. And then, Mei's posture changed: she relaxed so subtly that Yachiru would have missed it had she not been looking for it, and her coal black eyes finally shifted away from Yachiru, focusing on the door behind her. She scrutinized the wood for a moment before focusing again on Yachiru.

"Yachiru," she spoke softly, as though she was concealing her voice from eavesdroppers, "let's speak of this later." She raised her voice to an unnecessarily high volume, pitching her voice across the room. "If you would like, I could teach you how to speak Amestrian." The offer hung in the air as Yachiru tried to figure out what 'Amestrian' was and connect it to where she was. A bird's cry sounded outside, and a shadow flitted through the window as the bird flew past.

On instinct, Yachiru's eyes followed the movement. Suddenly, Yachiru remembered the polished black spin-dial phone from the weird bakery- it was a _spin-dial_ phone. And spin-dial phones had been obsolete since- what, a century, two centuries ago? Maybe the Germans of now, or here, called themselves (and their language) Amestrian.

"Hey," Yachiru spoke suddenly but softly. "What year is it, and what is this country called?"

Mei looked at her, surprise claiming her face for an instant. "It's the year 1930. This country is called Amestris."

1930 was- around fifteen years after World War I.

"Was there a huge war around fifteen years ago?" Maybe she was in... a parallel world of some sort. Nemu had mentioned something about that. Mayuri- she scowled- was looking into it, or something.

Mei, she realized, had not yet answered, and was looking at her with a look Yachiru would give a piece of candy that had confounded her candy theory. Then, slowly, Mei replied, avoiding the question and regressing to the previous topic. "I think... that dinner may be ready. We can begin lessons after dinner."

Not waiting to hear Yachiru's consent, Mei moved swiftly and silently to the door like a wildcat stalking toward its prey and, without warning, pulled the door open. Yachiru turned around as Mei asked convincingly in surprise, "Selim! Was machst du hier?" (_What are you doing here?_)Yachiru moved to Mei's side, peering into the hallway around the lady's body.

Selim stood in front of the door, left hand fingering the hem of his shirt. He stopped his intense study of the door's frame and stared up at Mei. Then he took a breath and stuttered, "I-ich habe nicht gelauscht." (_I-I wasn't eavesdropping._)

"Wo mei shuo ni zai qie ting. Wan can zuo hao le ma?" (_I didn't say you were eavesdropping. Has dinner been prepared?_) Mei spoke, this time, in rapid-fire Chinese. Surprised, Yachiru glanced up at her.

"Ja, ist es." (_Yes, it is._) Mei looked at him expectantly until he sighed and clumsily said, "Zuo hao le." (_It's done._) Still she stared at him. "Wan can zuo hao le." (_Dinner has been prepared._)

"Hao." (_Good._) Mei nodded in approval. Selim muttered something under his breath and moved out of the doorway. Mei smiled, showed no sign of having heard whatever Selim had muttered, and walked out into the hallway. "Let's go, Yachiru."

"Okay!" Yachiru hurried past Selim to catch up with the Asian lady, who had not bothered to wait and was already turning to descend the staircase. (Why did Mei have to walk so _fast_?) She was hungry and didn't want to test her sense of direction in this enormous museum exhibit of a house just yet.

Without warning, a hand encircled her wrist and pulled her back, halting her movement and overcorrecting her so that she fell backward instead of forward. A warm pressure fell on her shoulder, steadying her. "Yachiru." A long pause, as if he was having second thoughts. Then, "Vergiss es. Es ist nichts." (_Forget it. It's nothing._)

Selim released her, and Yachiru spun around, took a few steps backward, and looked at him curiously. 'Nicht,' Yachiru knew, was the equivalent of 'not' or indicated negativity. Her first thought was that he was warning her against doing something, but then she remembered that 'es' meant 'it,' or 'that,' or something along those lines. She pieced together what she guessed he had said and grinned, intrigued. Whenever someone said 'nothing', there was surely, without a doubt, 'something'. So she stared at him, willing him to change his mind.

But all the teenager did was shake his head and motion for her to go down the now empty hallway. "Frau Chang wartet." (_Ms. Chang is waiting._)

Yachiru stared at him some more, this time with more confusion than curiosity- he obviously wasn't planning on going with her. Nevertheless, she complied with his wishes and began walking down the hall. She turned to face a staircase (with ornately carved, white wood railings, Yachiru subconsciously took note of) and mechanically descended. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she almost walked into Mei, who stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Looking at her quizzically, the lady asked, "Where is Selim?"

Yachiru blinked, hearing the underlying question- what did he say?- and paused to sort her thoughts out before answering. "He said something negative and something like 'Furao Chang waruteto.'"

"Ah. He said 'Ms. Chang is waiting.'" A pause. Mei took Yachiru's hand and began walking to where Yachiru assumed would be the dining room. "So he will not be joining us yet? Do you remember what he said before that? The negative statement?"

"...Esu-" Yachiru struggled to remember, "isu... niche."

"Literally, 'it doesn't matter.'" And she went on to explain another, more common way to say 'it doesn't matter,' along with some speculations about grammar and a few useful common phrases that would be good to know. Apparently, Mei wasn't going to restrict her German -Amestrian- lessons to only after dinner. Yachiru wasn't sure how to feel about that. She wasn't sure how Kenpachi would take that either. This disconcerted her, even though it would be a rather trivial matter to anyone else. She quickly reasoned that Kenpachi had never had to learn another language, so it was normal for her to not know. Unfortunately, it did little to soothe her and sliced a gap into the thinning wall between her and her 'bad thoughts'. So instead, Yachiru focused on what Mei was teaching her and did her best to fix the phrases in her memory.

After a while, Mei finished her little lecture and fell silent. The rest of the walk was spent in silence.

Selim's mother, a middle aged woman who bore absolutely no resemblance to her son, greeted them with a simple-looking dinner set out on a small, unadorned table that contrasted sharply with what Yachiru had expected. Most of the rest of the house was a show of opulence, with masterfully painted landscapes hanging on the walls and delicate vases that seemed to have been crafted for absolutely no purpose except to impress.

Yachiru took a seat and eyed her food: there was no rice, and it consisted of a hunk of meat submerged in a thick red sauce along with a few red-stained vegetables. A white powder was sprinkled over the sauce, and a fork and knife lay on a napkin next to the plate.

Yachiru cut a piece of the meat and put it in her mouth.  
Unfamiliar spice burned on her tongue and blended with a hint of sweetness and the acrid, albeit faint, taste of alcohol. It was a novel, strange taste, but Yachiru decided she liked it.

Mei and Mrs. Bradley, who had been immersed in conversation, managed to include Yachiru; Mei acted the translator, and the three lapsed into a comfortable pattern.  
After dinner, Mrs. Bradley went in search of Selim, and Yachiru started her first language lesson.

Kneeling on Yachiru's (temporary, she reminded herself) bedroom's floor, Mei procured two packs of cards, one of cards with pictures on them and the other with cards with characters Yachiru recognized as kanji.

"Today we'll cover basic greetings and sentences; if we have time I'll teach you the alphabet as well." Mei glanced over the cards, frowned, and stowed them away again. "What do you already know?"  
Yachiru blinked. "'Guten Tagu' means 'good day' and 'Iku feru shite e nitu' is 'I don't understand.' And 'dasu' means 'this' or 'that' or 'it.' 'Nitu' is negative..."

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Kenpachi wasn't stupid, contrary to popular belief. He could, and would, reason when it was necessary, and he knew when it was absolutely necessary to exercise restraint. So when he confirmed that Yachiru had indeed disappeared without a trace in the space of a few seconds, he muzzled his desire to go berserk trying to find her and did what a person (or a shinigami) with a cool head would do: he tried to be as unobtrusive as possible and booked an express ride back to Seireitei.

Even before he set foot in Seireitei, everyone (practically everyone) knew something was wrong. If they weren't tipped off by Yachiru's absence, they would have been tipped off by Kenpachi's barely reigned in spiritual pressure- it glowed, bathing him in a bright sulfur yellow, and where he walked, spirits collapsed all around him. Not to mention that after a while, he decided to forget being unobtrusive and literally went straight for the headquarters, leaving mass destruction in his wake. By the time he reached the meeting hall, all the captains were congregated there, waiting for him. Not one was oblivious to his arrival. None of them looked pleased either; Hitsugaya, Byakuya, and Soifon in particular shot him baleful glares. From the midget, it wasn't too impressive, but the other two captains... well, the not-panicking part of him was itching for a fight already.

Subconsciously brushing away the rubble and dust (Yachiru had taken to cleaning a while back, hell if he knew why) and stepping around the remains of the previously intimidating doors, Kenpachi stomped into the room and paused, momentarily surprised that everyone was there.

The Head Captain seized the momentary silence, leveling his most disapproving, fear-inducing glare on the Eleventh Division's captain. "What is the meaning of this, Kenpachi? Our debt just doubled due to the damages you have done! There are rumors of rioting as we speak! And reign in your spiritual pressure!"  
Kenpachi, to the subtle (and for some, not so subtle) surprise of many of the captains, did as he was told. He exhaled a long breath and forced his way through jumbled thoughts, managing to string together a couple of sentences."Yachiru disappeared! We have to go find her!"

Yamamoto scrutinized him for a few seconds. "She's in the rebellious phase. She'll return soon- you can help with the reparations."

The old man's eyes flashed threateningly, and his sharp tone indicated that it wasn't a suggestion.

Kenpachi growled, barely stopping himself from jumping his superior. "No! She ran through a door and when I opened it a second after her she was _gone_! She wasn't anywhere in the sweets shop and I couldn't feel a single trace of her spiritual pressure! Like she doesn't even exist!"

He needed to tear something to pieces. If Yamamoto looked at him like he was a spoiled little kid again, so help him he would-

"My test subject has vanished off the face of the world of the living? How interesting...research... could be door... worth..." Kurotsuchi stopped mumbling and looked at Kenpachi, wearing a grin so wide it contorted his painted face almost grotesquely. "You must come with me, Kenpachi. I need to know all the details! And I'll need some more subjects as well... Reparations can wait. Let us go- what is it kids these days say? Eisap?"

Kurotsuchi swept out of the room, barking orders to Nemu, his ever-present, ever-faithful lieutenant. (Much like Yachiru, Kenpachi compared with a sharp feeling of loss.)

Glancing briefly at Unohana, Kenpachi turned on his heel and bounded out of the hall. The captains dispersed quickly after, returning to their respective divisions. All except the captain of the Fourth Division. She was accompanied by a vaguely familiar spiritual pressure- he didn't bother remembering the weak ones, but he thought it could be a lieutenant.

He stopped halfway to his division's barracks, obliging to wait for his pursuers.

He was met quickly by Unohana and the lieutenant of the midget- Matsubishi, or something. "Whaddya want?" Kenpachi spat the words out, not in the mood for a confrontation.

Unohana smiled placidly. "I'll only take a small portion of your time. I would like to accompany you." The healer indicated the woman next to her. "Lieutenant Matsumoto would like to come as well, for personal-" she must have sensed his reluctance to bring her along, "-and professional reasons."

Kenpachi scowled. What did the midget hope to accomplish by sending his lieutenant with them? She would just be a bother... but he had no time to argue. "Whatever. Don't slow me down." He glared pointedly at Matsumoto, who looked like she was trying not to collapse- probably a side effect of exposure to his spiritual pressure. Kenpachi half-snorted with derision. _Weakling._ (But if one thing could be said about Matsumoto, it was that she had loyalty, and guts to back it up.)

He left them there and quickly reached the barracks, where Yumechika and Ikkaku insisted on going as well. Indeed, news traveled fast. When he entered Yachiru's room, he noticed the absence of her zanpakuto, which she had decided to leave behind for the vacation. Unsettling, to say the least.

The trio, led by Yumechika, traipsed over to the Twelfth Division. After an initial problem with a gigantic vehicle that looked like a cross between a wagon, a cart, and a scooter, the seven entered the world of the living.

By the time they reached the place of interest, night had fallen, and the only things keeping Kenpachi and his fellow division members from killing Kurotsuchi were Unohana and the fact that the experimentalist was the only one with an inkling of an idea of where Yachiru had gone.

Standing a good meter or so away from the door of the innocent looking shop, Kenpachi scowled at the mad scientist, who was glued to his gigantic contraption of a computer, fingers flashing across the keyboard. The flashy neon lines that were slicing through the screen's black (but somehow glowing) backdrop meant nothing to him.

Why couldn't the guy just _hurry the hell up_? The group had already been loitering around the alley for almost an hour, and all the bastard had done was set up his damned computer and watch lines zigzagging across the screen. Kenpachi twitched. He needed to move, needed some kind of excitement or something to do. Letting other people do the work- either because he couldn't do it or because he wasn't there to do it- just didn't sit well with him; it meant he owed someone something, and that he was inept. Needless to say, he liked neither of those things, but he especially loathed being in the debt of a person he didn't even like.

It turned out, however, that his wish for something to happen was granted- and not in a good way. Even though the sun had turned in for the night quite a while ago, there were still enough pedestrians for them to garner a few strange looks and a few curious onlookers, most of which were efficiently dispersed by Unohana.

Two men dressed in dark green strode up to the group, speaking rapid-fire German. Kenpachi straightened and moved away from the wall he had been leaning on, watching the burlier of the two warily; the man's hand was positioned suspiciously near his gun holster, and he spoke aggressively, blatantly keeping his eyes on Kenpachi and occasionally drifting over to glance at Ikkaku. Unohana quickly took up negotiations. At one point, the men gestured at Kurotsuchi, who was still engrossed in his work. After a short and unpleasant exchange (Kenpachi wanted to beat them down- they spoke so arrogantly when they had not yet gained that right), Unohana turned to her fellow captains. "We have a problem, Kurotsuchi-taichou, Kenpachi-taichou. They say that we look suspicious, and they want to bring us in for questioning. It'll only take a short while. We should go."

Kurotsuchi tore his eyes away from his computer, turning and glaring at Unohana. "I'm almost done gathering data. The humans can wait."

Kenpachi agreed. There was no time to humor these people.

"With all due respect, Kurotsuchi-taichou, Kenpachi-taichou, if we don't go with them, things will get messy. If Nemu can store the data-"

"I say we just kill them, or wipe their memories, and be done with it!"

Matsumoto drew herself up, not flinching away from Kenpachi despite his terrible expression. "There's been a murder, and they think we've something to do with it."

"Bah." Kurotsuchi turned away, waving his hand dismissively. "Nemu. Wipe their memories."

"Of course, Mayuri-sama." Nemu bowed slightly, procuring a mind-wiper and approaching the two uniformed men. Quick as a flash, the burly man whipped out his gun, leveling it at her. "Bewegen Sie sich nicht!" (_Do not move!_)

Nemu looked at him impassively. "Go to sleep now." And before the man could react, she pressed the button.

The policemen thudded to the ground, and the gun the bigger man had held skittered across the ground, stopping at Kenpachi's feet. He tsked, kicking the gun away and back to its unconscious owner.

"Now what? Kurotsuchi, you done with your crap yet?" The scientist jerked upright as if he'd gotten shot and spun around. The glower shot his way could have melted even the most acid-resistant material. Pleased to have gotten under the Twelfth Division captain's skin, Kenpachi grinned his equivalent of smirking and leaned back against the wall. "What's your colorful sh*t say?"

Kurotsuchi snarled, "The _data_ I gathered is critical to finding Yachiru. You obviously don't have enough brain cells to realize this, _Kenpachi-taichou_." He spat out Kenpachi's name as if it were something utterly repulsive, saying his title derisively. "If you weren't as insipid as a Hollow, you'd see past your insatiable thirst for blood and focus on the marginally more important things. I didn't have to drag you along, in case you didn't know. Yachiru can stay lost for all I care." A pause, and then he dropped the bomb. "After all, test subjects are easily replaceable."

Seeing red, Kenpachi reached for his stand-in sword and lunged at the scientist. Forget entertainment- he was going to claw out Kurotsuchi's eyes and rip him to shreds!

Suddenly, something slammed into him. After regaining his balance, he swiveled to face whoever had dared to interrupt him. Unohana stared back at him, disapproval sharpening her storm-grey eyes. Momentarily caught off guard, Kenpachi broke out of his haze. "Kenpachi-taichou. Stand down. We are going to go to the hotel, and we will interpret the data that Kurotsuchi has gathered. There will be no fighting, no provocations, or I will see to it that you are immobilized." She turned to Kurotsuchi, who had already begun packing away his equipment. "Kurotsuchi-taichou, did you hear?"

He made a vague sound of agreement. Satisfied, Unohana turned away, moving around the two police officers, who were now slumped in uncomfortable positions against the wall, and into the street. When she turned to face them again, her face once again betrayed nothing but calm. "Whenever you're ready," she said serenely.  
After Kurotsuchi and Nemu finished with their packing, the group moved over to the nearest hotel, where Yumechika had somehow managed to book three rooms.

* * *

A young woman- she couldn't have been out of her teens- was flanked by two men as she strode down the street, weaving around the occasional passerby. Even so late at night, the city was alive. It was a rather unfortunate and unwelcome fact for the lady, and she scowled. One of the men, the one with the woolen beret perched askew on his head, spoke. "Hey, uh, Lyse-"

"It's Captain."

The man flinched. "R-right, Captain. Sorry, uh, Captain. Um..." He paused, as if deciding whether or not to continue, or perhaps waiting for a rebuke of some sort. "I heard from- from Halzen that there was a break in the Edge- and, and... um, nevermind."

Lyse sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes. Such incompetence. This job was not for the weak at heart. "You should stop stuttering, Lance. You sound incompetent. Remind me, why are you allowed to be part of my group, again? Think before you speak, please."

Lance chose not to answer, adjusted his beret, and shoved his hands into his pockets. The rest of the walk was traveled in silence, and just as well. The job at hand was much more important than criticising her colleagues.

They turned into an alleyway containing a small shop. The windows were shuttered, and a plain CLOSED sign hung in one of the windows. Lyse quickly scanned the area. She could see the traces of the young spirit who had passed through the Edge- its strangely jagged haze abruptly stopped at the door, signalling that she had moved into the Other World. An older spirit, it looked like, had come just a while later, left, and returned with more spirits... Lyse glared at the shop. Her already bad mood had just taken a steep dive.

Spinning on her heel to face Lance and Pon, who had yet to speak a word (wise, considering her foul mood), Lyse fixed them with a piercing glare. "I don't want to deal with this today- it's too late, mostly, and I'm extremely cranky right now. Tomorrow we'll have a lot of tracing to do, and if we're lucky we'll be able to put down the trespasser and I can part with you two. Meet me at Headquarters at eight, sharp."

With that, Lyse brushed past them and stalked away. A half-formed 'yes, Captain' followed her as she left. She scowled again and took out her cellphone. Before she retired for the night, she had some errands to run.

**A/N: Well, things are kinda picking up. So that's good. But I'm still winging it- the only thing I have a vague idea about would be the characters. As for the last hundred words or so- about Lyse, Lance, and Pon... don't worry. As you can see, I've cast Lyse as one unpleasant woman. And Lance seems to be a beret-wearing guy with no spine. And Pon has no lines, and thus, no character. I made these guys on the spot (except for Lyse. She's been hanging around for a week or so, and is based off someone I was... at odds with.)  
**

**Apologies for the OOCness of some of the people (I'm sure Kurotsuchi could be one, and Kenpachi is probably one, and Ikkaku... I forgot about him, and thus he has no lines.) In addition, I'm pretty bad at multi-person conversations, and tend to freeze everything while two people converse (not to mention the choppiness, etc.). But hey, that's why I'm here. To practice and improve.  
**

**Again, feedback of any kind is welcome (and coveted). Thank you for your time, and I hope you'll stick with me through this!  
**

**P.S. Sorry about my hyperactivity last time- I was high on 'hooray I finished this chapter~.' If you have any issues or questions, don't hesitate to drop a review or a PM! I'll do my best to listen to what you have to say and answer your questions.  
**

**P.S.S. Before I forget: If I don't update in a while, check my profile; I put updates there about my story so I don't have to reupload this chapter over and over again. Also, I told some people that I would rename this... I won't. It's too much trouble, and I'll save it for the rewrite.  
**


	5. Confrontations

A/N: sorry for the late update and any mistakes I may have missed. I'm on a trip right now and WiFi is very scarce. I'm quite proud of this chapter, actually. I hope you guys find something to comment on in this one, haha. XD

Chapter Five: Confrontations

Selim ran and weaved through the crowds of people. He cleared a group of evening shoppers and risked a glance at the time. Almost seven.

A man who had been in his path stumbled to the left as he barreled past. Not breaking his pace, Selim tossed him a hasty apology over his shoulder. This was one of the most insipid ideas he'd had in a while- and he'd overestimated himself. Again. Of course, he had completed what he went out for, but it had taken longer than he had expected- too long, maybe. The government was on high alert because of the seemingly random disappearances that had been happening lately- and of course, the higher ups who'd known about him immediately pointed at him.

That was when Edward and Mei and Alphonse- that was when they all came back into his life. A strange feeling Selim couldn't place bubbled up inside him, frothing and churning in his insides, as it always did when he linked them- and his mother- to his... past. He really wished he didn't think of it that often- but he couldn't ignore it. Not with- His foot caught on an uneven cobblestone, and he hit the ground skidding. A burning pain claimed his palms, and a lancing pain jolted through him. Almost not missing a beat, Selim scrambled up again and examined the ugly wounds marring his hands, willing them not to heal. There was a jingle to his right, and a concerned voice asked, "Hey, are you alright? That was quite a fall."

He turned, startled, and automatically dropped his hands close to his sides to hide them from view. A woman wearing a long, somewhat old fashioned dress was looking at him, one hand holding the door of the shop she'd exited from open. Like most people, her eyes settled first on the circular scar on his forehead. Unlike most people, she quickly looked lower and met his eyes.

A jolt ran through his body. The look on her face reminded him of his mother's, from... before. Before she knew, before everything he had lived for collapsed. Before everything. After he had... started over, her face- it was still kind, but there was something dark, like a shadow, lingering behind her smiles and concern. He could even feel it when she embraced him. He'd begun to notice it by the time he was eight, but didn't understand it until he was eleven. Sometimes she'd genuinely laugh or smile, but then she would think of something that would pull the smile off her face, and she'd sober up. There would be this awkward silence, and if he asked what was wrong, she'd stare at him with an unsettling sorrowful expression, then switch on the humor or the fake smile, and say she just remembered something about his 'father'. He loathed it, and after a quarter year of being acutely aware of it, he began to distance himself from her, turning to books and their dusty secrets for solace.

The woman waved a hand in front of his eyes, wrenching him out of his daze. "Don't look at me with such an expression, mister. I just asked if you were fine."

"A-ah, sorry; yes, I'm fine. Thanks for your concern, Miss," he replied quickly.

"Call me Paula. Come inside anyway- we don't have proper bandages, but you at least should wash your wounds so they don't get infected." She gripped his arm with surprising strength and dragged him inside before he had the thought to protest. He didn't have time for this.

She walked him into the back room and addressed a stout man with a slight mustache.

"Hey, Waldhere, could you take care of this young man for a while? I have to get back to the front." The woman- Paula- let go of him and pushed him gently toward the man. Without waiting to hear Waldhere's affirmative, she spun around and briskly made her way to the front of the store again.

Waldhere grinned, watching her retreating back for a while before turning to examine Selim. "That woman- she's bossy, but she has this kindness and concern that sets her apart from others. Anyway, let's get those cleaned up, hm?"

Selim looked at him and glanced at his hands. The wounds still hadn't mended, but the pain had already faded. They either healed slower due to willpower or the fact that he was significantly weaker. He preferred the former. In any case, he couldn't risk it. Looking back up at Waldhere, he said, "No, it's alright. I really need to return home now. Mother will be worried."

The older man grinned easily at him. "Oho, you're a good boy, aren't you. When I was your age I was running rampant... Your mother would be more worried to see you come back with unwashed wounds, kid. Trust me." He turned and waved his hand in a 'follow me' gesture. "Come on. It won't be long."

Selim shook his head. "No, thanks. I really need to go home now..." He tried to think of something more to say and came up with nothing. Where was his extensive knowledge when he needed it?

Waldhere turned around again and looked at him dubiously. His face took on a more solemn expression as he said, "Hey kid, I wouldn't peg you as the troublesome type, and I won't ask you why you're in such a hurry, but... If you- need to get home that badly, I won't stop you." The grin came back. "And be sure to buy a loaf of bread before you leave."

Selim's relief must have shown on his face, because Waldhere laughed jovially and exclaimed, "No sir indeed, you're like an open book! How're you gonna avoid your mother's questions?"

Selim looked at the ground and then checked the time again. "I will figure that out when I get there. Thanks, Waldhere. I'll buy some bread before I leave."

Paula didn't seem too happy when she saw that Selim hadn't washed up. "Why haven't you washed up? You might get infected-"

Selim cut in, thinking she might start a little speech, as his mother often did when he worried her. "Um, I don't have much time, but I'll buy some bread."

Paula muttered something and said huffily, "Fine." She grabbed a loaf of bread seemingly at random and shoved it into his hands. "Wash up as soon as you get home, you hear me? And that'll be nine sens."

Shifting the bread gingerly to one side, he dug into his pockets and fished out a ten sen piece. "Here. Keep the change, please." As he handed over the piece, he became aware of the fact that his injuries had mostly mended over. He would have cussed, had he been the cussing type. Which he wasn't. Luckily, Paula didn't notice.

He hurried out of the shop and continued down the street. A beggar sat on her blanket, leaning forlornly against the wall. A practically empty tin sat in front of her. Although he was in a hurry, he stopped and looked down at the woman. It wasn't often that beggars came here to beg for money; in general, beggars were looked at with disgust and sometimes even fear.

The woman noticed his stare and struggled a bit to sit up. "Please, mister. My children- my children'll go hungry this night iffa can't get a bit of cash-" She broke off, coughing harshly. Some people glanced at her with vague alarm and sped up their paces, moving around the still boy with the bread and giving the beggar woman a wide berth.

Selim stared at her- she had twisted her body away when she began to cough. Most impoverished didn't care for such things as that.

… He didn't need the bread anyway, so he bent down and placed it onto her blanket before backing away.

When the woman stopped coughing, she looked at him with an almost unsettlingly bright smile. "Thanks so much, mister, bless you..." She scooped up the bread and clambered to her feet, swaying slightly and bowing her head at him. "My children'll be so happy, thank you so much."

He didn't know what to do, so he just nodded and said, "There's no need- and... I think there is a newly opened soup kitchen near the school. Maybe you could go there?"

The woman brightened even more. "Ah- didn't hear 'bout that. 'M be sure to go there... Thanks again, mister!"

Selim smiled at her and continued on his way, feeling lighter than he had in a while. The feeling persisted until he sighted his house. He slipped inside as quietly as possible, but the click of the door resounded loudly in the silence of the room, or so it seemed to him. He started up the stairs, hoping to change his clothes before his mother confronted him... maybe he could just say he was in the library and lost track of time... no, that wouldn't work... "Selim!" Halfway up the stairs, he was jolted out of his thoughts. He looked over the rail at his mother, who had her hands on her hips and a most disapproving look on her face.

"...Yes, Mother?"

"You're hurt, and your clothes are ruined! What were you doing out so late? Next time, tell me where you're going before you leave! Wash up and come eat dinner- Yachiru and Mei have already finished. And don't try to avoid eating- we need to talk."

Selim stiffened. The last time she spoke like that to him was when she found out he hurt some kids at school. (Well, in his defense, they were asking for it. He wasn't sorry for what he did.) It meant he was in serious trouble- though for what he wasn't sure. It wasn't as if he hadn't disappeared off her radar before. "...I'm not hungry." Seeing her begin to speak, he hastily added, "But I'll come down anyway."

"See that you do." With that, she stalked into the dining room.

On his way to his room, Selim passed by Yachiru's room. Light spilled from beneath the closed door, tinting the ground a pleasant gold. He paused at the door and tried to catch a few words- not to eavesdrop; he really wasn't interested in what they were saying- but to see if he had succeeded.

Mei's muffled yet unmistakable voice floated through. "-and how do you say 'how are you?'"

The boy smiled in victory. It worked- he could understand their language! There was silence. Then Yachiru said, "Can Selim join us? He's back from wherever he went."

Selim blinked in bemusement, victory forgotten, and hurried to his room. As he changed clothes, he mulled the implications of what he'd just heard over. How did she know that he was back, and that he'd gone somewhere outside the house? Come to think of it, back at the school yard where he had first met her, she'd found him thinking she would find someone else. So... Selim frowned. Maybe she could sense life energy like the Xingese could. Folding his dirty clothes neatly and placing them on the wardrobe top, he brushed himself off (his wounds had healed already, anyway) and hurried downstairs.

His mother was sitting at the dinner table with a book in hand, and a plate of steak sat on the table in front of the chair opposite her. He took his seat, and stared at his plate. He knew it was a dish that took many hours to prepare, and felt slightly guilty that his appetite was practically nonexistent at the moment. His mother, he observed, was clearly not reading the book she held. Probably waiting for him to start eating. He didn't, and after a few minutes his mother sighed and snapped the book closed, placing it on the table.

Then she looked at him with grave green eyes, a frown adorning her face. "Selim, why aren't you eating? Are you sick?"

"I feel perfectly fine, Mother." She should know- he'd never gotten sick in his whole life. Not physically, anyway. He wasn't so sure about his mental state.

She continued like he hadn't spoken. "I'm worried, Selim. You're always helping people- and that's wonderful- but you don't seem to be taking care of yourself. You're still growing- you need to get out more, make some friends. The only people you interact with are your teachers, and you barely even talk much to me anymore. When's the last time we've had an honest conversation?"

He stared at her, resisting the urge to snap that it wasn't him, it was her, and everyone he'd ever met. "Mother-"

"Oh, don't 'Mother' me, Selim. And please, don't look at me like that. Today's been a long day, and I'd rather not end it with an argument."

He said nothing and waited for her to continue.

"Selim... it's dangerous outside. There've been disappearances, and they're getting closer to here. If-" Her voice cracked, and Selim winced. He hated it when she became emotional- he didn't know how to deal with it, and it made him feel useless. "-if you won't tell me where you're going, please at least tell someone, maybe the guards. I'm here for you, and they're here for you."

Selim scoffed to himself. The guards? Here for him? It was more like they were here for everyone else's protection. Call him self-assured or haughty, but he definitely wasn't stupid. "How did you know I was't in the library?"

"I checked the library. And you didn't come to dinner." Silence. Then, with a softer and more resigned tone, "I don't understand you, Selim. Why do you help people but make no attempt to make any friends? Why do you worry me so?" He knew she wasn't trying to make him feel guilty, but nonetheless...

"Sorry, Mother, for worrying you." He looked at his food again, studying the meat, which was drenched in a red sauce. Too bright to be blood red. He wondered if he should tell her why he avoided eating- everything tasted faintly of blood.

The silence stretched uncomfortably. Selim wondered how their relationship ended up so strained. When did this huge chasm split the ground between them?

"I love you, you know that, right, Selim?" He looked up at her, startled. Where had that come from? "You're my only family now- and... I would give my life if it made you happy."

Her face held a glimmer of hope as she spoke. It brightened her face and reminded him of when she had been younger and content, with the Fuhrer by her side. "...I know. I-" The words lodged in his throat. He couldn't say it. Why couldn't he say it? "I..." He so badly wanted to see her smile... but he couldn't say it. His vision blurred slightly, and he shook his head, turning away to hide his face. "I don't want you to die, especially- especially not for me, Mother." He hated himself. Why did everything around him fall into ruins? Tch. Karma must have caught up to me, he thought bitterly.

He stood up and looked to the window and the darkness outside. Maybe he could melt into it and disappear, like all those people... "I'm sorry, Mother. I wish I could make you happier." The words sounded empty in the still air. He couldn't bear to look at her face, couldn't meet her eyes and show her the feelings behind his words.

She was crying. He knew- her breathing had slowed and then became uneven, and sometimes she'd gasp or sniffle. Sorry, Mother. I wish I could take away your pain- but I think I'd die if I did. She was a strong woman; sometimes, he thought, she was stronger than he was. He hoped she was strong enough to never break.

She said nothing, and he had nothing more to say, so he walked away and headed to the library, planning to drown himself in books again. Maybe if he stared some more at the transmutation circles, figured out some more things about the nature of souls... maybe it would cut away a bit of the pain and emptiness and guilt that refused to release him as they tried to drag him to the very depths of hell.

But then again, maybe if he stopped resisting, it would be better for everyone.

* * *

The day had passed quickly- it had been more eventful than usual, what with the little pink girl's appearance. It gave her quite a bit to wonder about. Paula stood in the back room, wrapping and putting away left over bread for the next day's sale. Most of the the workers had already left and the light of the sun had long since dimmed.

"Hey, Paula, are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" Waldhere asked for the third time, slipping on his overcoat. "I'm not comfortable leaving you here alone..." His concern was not misplaced; Paula wouldn't stand a chance against most criminals, and although the city was one of the more protected and patrolled cities, there was an abundance of slums and, as a result, crime. The murder rate was on the rise; just a few days before, there'd been one, of an unfortunate pawnbroker. Well- it wasn't really murder. It would be more accurate to say 'disappearance'. There was no crime scene, no evidence. None of the victims' bodies had ever been found.

Paula shivered. Just thinking about it made her wish Waldhere would stay. "No, I'll be fine, Waldhere. Thanks for the concern." She turned to smile reassuringly at him- and froze in shock.

A hooded man loomed over Waldhere. Before she could scream a warning, he brought his arm crashing down on her coworker's head. As Waldhere crumpled to the ground, his attacker calmly approached Paula.

Brown eyes widening, she pressed herself to the shelf, shaking. "W-what do y-you w-want?"

The hooded man stopped an arm's width away from her. The dim light was not enough to make out his face, even at this proximity, and the hood cast his face into the shadows. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, the man reached under his cloak. Like a deer follows the movement of the wolf, Paula had her eyes glued to the man's hand as it traveled into his pocket. Would he bring out a gun, or maybe a dagger?

No, she realized, it was a light-colored rectangle. The man deftly spun it to show the opposite side, which was covered with clear cut block letters. Paula stared at the words, almost unable to comprehend them. 'Do not be afraid. Where is the girl?'

Paula relaxed slightly. The man was not here to kill her- yet. Her brain cranked into motion. "Just-" She coughed- her throat had gone dry and her voice was barely a croak. "Just a minute- could we- move to a brighter area? I can't- can't really see the words clearly."

The man did not move. Then, so abruptly that Paula flinched and hit her head against the shelf, he shifted backwards, raised his free hand, waved it in a kind of curved chopping movement, like he was tracing a part of a circle. As she watched, a globe of something faintly glittering formed and floated above his hand. He flipped the card again, and the back side- which Paula was sure had been blank just a few seconds ago- showed the word, 'water.' Under the man's direction, the blob of water floated into the air and encased the lightbulb hanging above. The room brightened, and the man flipped the card again. 'Where is the girl?'

Girl? Immediately, Paula thought of Yachiru- she knew that girl was strange. The way she'd bolted suddenly after standing in front of the bakery... but she was still a girl. My second good deed for today, Paula thought, and spoke. To her credit, her voice only wavered slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The man immediately flipped the card again. 'Do not lie again, or the man dies.'

Paula swallowed, unease spiking. The little composure she had salvaged fled. Her eyes flickered to the side and her mind half short circuited. This man- he had pulled water out of the air. And that card of his was clearly supernatural. (Wildly, a part of her reasoned that he must be from the fairy tales of the nonhumans- the semi-divine that every child knew of... but that was impossible. It had to be.) After another moment of silence, Paula whispered hoarsely, "Please- don't make me do this- p-please..."

The man flipped the card again. This time, instead of words, there was a sickening picture painted on it. Paula's stomach rebelled, and she turned her head, a hand shooting up to cover her mouth. The message was clear- that was what he would do to Waldhere if she refused to talk. Eyes watering, Paula waited until the urge passed before turning back to the man. "I'll tell- just please, don't kill Waldhere, o-or me. Y-you mean the pink girl?"

Flip. 'Pink. Should be. Yes.'

She hated herself as the words spilled out. "She tripped into the bakery a little while before three. Couldn't understand much of what I said. She-she seemed to know only two phrases- thick accent... too short to be healthy- um, for, for her age. Seemed around eleven, twelve, but maybe younger, older, I couldn't tell. Something about her face- I don't know... I gave her some bread, and she left."

Flip. 'Which way.'

She blanched, and pressed herself harder against the shelf. "P-please, don't hurt her. She's only a young girl- all alone-"

The man did not move.

The world blurred completely out of focus. Unsteadily, Paula choked out, "Please... I... I don't know, I don't- I don't know, just- pl-please..."

Flip. She could barely make out the words. 'Pitiful human. Do not worry. I will not harm the girl, just as I will not harm you.'

Wordless, the bakery woman pointed a shaking finger to the right.

'Good. Sleep well.' The room dimmed once more, and the stranger swept out as quietly as he had come in.

Paula said nothing and pressed her hand to her mouth, attempting to muffle her sobs, as she sank to the ground.

The next day, she had no recollection of the late night visitor. It could be seen as a blessing- but nothing in this world is a one-edged sword.

* * *

Yachiru woke up suddenly, eyes popping open to peer at the unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment, she panicked- the heavy blankets covering her felt suffocating, and the somewhere out in the city, the clock tower tolled, ringing out in its lethargic pace. Twelve tolls, Yachiru noted absentmindedly. Midnight.

Slowly, the girl calmed down as memories flowed back into her mind. She was at the Bradleys' house, and Kenpachi was coming to get her. (But maybe she should be more active and find her way back, instead of being the damsel in distress.)

Feeling an urge to relieve herself, she got up and left the warmth of her bed in search of the bathroom. She was fairly certain it was to the right of her room...

After what seemed like forever, Yachiru stopped outside a room with double doors thrown ajar, admitting to herself that maybe, just maybe, she had no idea where she was.

Luckily for her, someone was inside the room- she could see a faint light past some of the bookshelves. So they even had a library. Maybe if she read some of them it would help explain where she was, and garner less suspicion than if she asked her hosts or her self-imposed language teacher.

She followed the light to its source, hoping that it would be Mei. It wasn't. Selim sat on the ground with a thick book and several note-covered papers spread in front of him. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice her approach.

She stared at him in shock. If it were him, why didn't she sense him? His reiatsu was definitely not one she could pass over on instinct, like she did with the shinigami with weaker pressures. Then she dismissed it- she was just overreacting. Obviously, he was just hiding his presense.

She watched him work for a while longer, waiting for him to notice her. He didn't, so she said, "Hey." Her voice shattered the silence and sounded too loud.

Selim, who had just leaned down to make another note, jumped and scratched an unbecoming line across the paper. He looked up at her with a scowl. "Yachiru, what are you doing up so late?"

Yachiru frowned, affronted at his tone. "I was looking for the bathroom..." Wait. "You can speak Japanese?"

Selim's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. Quickly, he looked back down at the book, muttering something in German, or Amestrian, or whatever. Trying to ignore her, was he? Well, no one ignored her!

"Hey." She leaned down and poked his shoulder. "Selim-chan, why didn't you-"

"Don't call me that. And don't tell anyone I can speak... Japanese? Is that what you call it? The bathroom is the second door on the left after you turn right from your room." He looked up at her again, and after a moment of thought, asked, "How did you end up over here? This is the first floor."

Yachiru flushed. Was he insinuating- there was nothing wrong with her sense of direction! "I thought there might be a bathroom near the dining room!" But then she couldn't find the dining room... She pouted. "Your house is too big and confusing!"

Selim glanced at his papers and began to organize his papers, sighing. "Here, I'll take you to the bathroom. I should clean up now anyway..."

She frowned again. "I don't need your help!"

He looked up from where he was slipping his notes into the book. "Ha ha, you don't need my help." His voice dripped with sarcasm. Oh- so now he was patronizing her, was he? "Yachiru- you're in my house."

"You- that's only because I need a place to stay until Ken-chan finds me!" She winced mentally- that made her sound dependent and weak, like she couldn't take care of herself. Which she could do just fine.

Selim picked up the book, tucked it under his arm, and picked up the lamp. "Where did you say you were from again?"

Yachiru froze and backed away, ostensibly to give him room. "I- never told you where I was from..."

Luckily, he dropped the subject. He moved past her, and she followed him in silence.

They were on the second floor when Selim spoke again. "You aren't from this world, Yachiru, are you."

She looked at the wall. "Where did you get that idea?"

He shrugged. "You have pink hair."

She didn't know what to say to that. "If you don't pry into my business, I won't pry into yours." Even though he intrigued her to no end.

"Of course. That was uncalled for." He stopped at a door. "This is the bathroom. I trust you can find your way to your room from here?"

Yachiru glared at him. "Yes, I can."

He handed her the lamp. "Then have a good night." As he walked away, he added almost inaudibly, "I hope your Ken-chan finds you soon."

Yachiru resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him as he left. That would be too childish. She entered the bathroom with the lamp and groped around for the light switch.

Unable to find it, she gave up and put the lamp on the ground. Relieved to see that flush toilets had, in fact, been invented by this time, she sat down and proceeded to think.

She wasn't going to pry into his business, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try to figure out how he worked and what was going on in this house. The shinigami she worked with were easy to read after a short while of interaction, and everyone in general was fairly straightforward. Kind of. She didn't really care if it didn't affect her or Kenpachi. Or Yumichika and Ikkaku... or anyone she cared at all about, really.

Mei had told her a lot after the lesson, and frankly, she remembered that better than she had the actual lesson. There were a lot disappearances, and the security in this house was tightening, because the Bradley family was very important and the government was worried that the disappearances actually weren't random... something about an underground rebel group? But the explanation didn't satisfy her- there was way too much suspicion and tension in this house. And why was Mei, the ambassador from Xing, staying at this house and not some government supplied house?

And if that weren't confusing enough, she had Selim to figure out as well.

Thoughts swirling in her mind like a tempest, Yachiru washed up, left the bathroom, and eventually found her bedroom. Maybe she shouldn't have accepted Selim's offer; there seemed to be a lot of... stuff... going on in this house, and exciting as it was, Yachiru didn't think it would come to any good.

A/N: A note on Selim- I wasn't expecting him to turn out like he did. And as for the card-flipping hydrokinesis guy... Spur of the moment, still trying to figure him out. Comments on them? Ahh gotta go-


	6. Visits

**A/N: Hey everyone, and happy holidays! It's been over a month since my last update, but here it is! I was hoping to get a few more scenes in, but in the end I decided to cut the chapter off. It's still my longest chapter yet, though, and has quite a bit of substance, so I guess that makes up a bit for the wait. Once again, whether it is complaints, questions, worries, or thoughts- any kind of feedback is welcome!**

Chapter Six: Visits

The man standing in hallway would have struck visitors as more than a little peculiar and better avoided. For one thing, he wore long white robes with a blue jay emblazoned on the back, and- in a horrid clashing of styles- a fuzzy white beanie was crammed onto his head and pulled down to cover his ears. For another, and this was probably the more weighty reason, he stood awkwardly hunched with his face pressed against one of the hotel's many rooms' door, presumably looking through a peephole.

For the umpteenth time that night, Niklas Weber straightened and stretched, rolling his shoulders. He said softly to invisible ears, "Have not we waited long enough? These people are not retiring to bed any time soon. I can expedite-"

He stopped and ducked his head, hands shooting up toward his head as if he intended to clap them over his ears. They stopped halfway and slowly returned to his sides as Niklas sighed and acquiesced, "As you say, then, Gregor." Niklas paused and stooped to once again press his eye to the small hole in the door. "But really, all they are doing is ridiculous. Are you sure these are our comrades from the East? They have the most peculiar hairstyles and fashions, and are most insipid and lawless." He squinted, watching as the bald man jumped up from his cross-legged position on the bed and swatted at the man with the feather in his eye, who leaned backward in attempt to avoid the swing. He didn't lean back far enough and fell unceremoniously off the bed, hitting the ground with an audible crash which was barely muffled by the door. "And violent as well."

There was a silence. Niklas tilted his head, straining to see more of the room and its occupants. A smug smile graced his lips when he next spoke. "Then I have received the go ahead? Will do," -a half-mocking, half-humorous sort of tone entered his voice- "my Lord."

With that, he struck down the door and strode into the room as if he owned it. "Hello, comrades. I do believe it is time to slumber. Lights out."

And without even a chance to even finish an exclamation, the bald man and the feather-eyed man slumped to the ground, weapons clattering to the floor.

He moved to the next room, where a tall woman with long black hair braided down the front stood talking quietly with a battle-weathered man with an eyepatch covering one eye and a long scar running through the other. A well endowed woman with damp strawberry blonde hair padded out of the bathroom, clad in a bathrobe and talking animatedly on a cellphone.

Two words and a mere moment later, and all lay deep in sleep. Niklas gazed dispassionately at the scene and turned away. "Gregor, it is done. Have you a handle on the contraption yet?" A silence. Then, "Splendid. Shall we move our guests to a more comfortable place as we await their awakening?" Another silence. "In any case, my work here is done. We can bring in others to move them." He listened for a moment and frowned. "What? They want us to deal with the meddlesome humans as well? When did we become the interworld police?... Fine, let's hurry."

Shortly after he left, a group came and spirited away the sleepers.

* * *

On the other side of the phone call, Toshiro Hitsugaya slammed the phone into its cradle. So three captains, his lieutenant, and two higher seats had gotten subdued by one person with an accomplice and underdogs. Their target was Kurotsuchi's computer, and they weren't human.

Trouble was brewing- this did not worry him as much as he was familiar (sometimes, he thought, too familiar) with danger and adversary. But the timing of such trouble, and the fact that the abduction had happened in Germany of all places... No respite for the weary, Toshiro thought tiredly. The captain of the Tenth Division sat there a while longer before he stood up and flash stepped out of his office. Reinforcements had to be sent, and as soon as possible.

* * *

_Two days later_

Mrs. Bradley watched with faint alarm and amusement as Yachiru scarfed down her breakfast at a breakneck pace. She didn't even seem to be tasting the food.

Unobtrusively, Mrs. Bradley nudged Mei and whispered, "Maybe you should tell her to eat slower?"

Mei nodded and leaned forward, passing on the message. Yachiru did nothing to show that she had heard her, but she did slow down marginally.

A chain of soft thumps emitted from the foyer. Someone, probably Selim, was hurrying down the stairs. A feeling not dissimilar to nervousness or apprehension spread through Mrs. Bradley's body and settled in her stomach.

A few seconds later, Selim burst into the dining room with mussed hair and bleary eyes. His shirt was rumpled and was only half tucked in, and a thick book crammed with paper was tucked under his arm. "'Morning..."

The feeling evaporated in an instant, replaced by disapproval. Mrs. Bradley chose to forego the 'young-man-what-do-you-think-you're-doing-with-that-kind-of-appearance' speech that would normally be called for. Mornings were supposed to be happy.

Yachiru greeted him with accented Amestrian before reverting to her native language. She seemed to be asking him a question, and stopped when Selim sent her a half-awake glare as he snatched a slice of bread off the table. Mrs. Bradley frowned. Another foregone lecture. As he briskly left the room, he called over his shoulder, "Mother, I'm going to the library near the laboratory! I should be back before four!"

Wavering between being happy and being worried, Mrs. Bradley said, "Wait, Selim." The words leaped out of her mouth before she could think twice. A part of her was already dreading the conversation that was to come.

Selim stopped, but he neither turned around as would be proper and respectful nor eased up as many sons would have. The way he stiffened slightly fed the suspicion that he was preparing for a challenge or test.

Lips turning downward, Mrs. Bradley almost scolded him for it. Instead, she said, "Why don't Mei and Yachiru go with you?"

He was silent. Then, in a tone that was brimming with sullen belligerence: "Why?"

She resisted the urge to snap, 'Because I said so.' Why was he being so difficult? Was he punishing her for something? Did he not care about her? The questions crowded her mind, jumping out of the cage she had locked them in.

A warm hand took her own, squeezing reassuringly. Mei. Mrs. Bradley smiled at her gratefully. Calmer now, she said, "Because you need to interact with someone closer to your age and Yachiru should mingle with society more. Mei can act as a translator."

After another moment of silence, Selim heaved a sigh, one that somehow expressed a multitude of emotions all at once- reluctance, resignation, and resentment to name a few- and acquiesced.

Mei stood suddenly, collected all the empty plates and utensils, and moved into the kitchen. Water began to run, followed by the clash of plates against the kitchen counter (and other surfaces). She called something to Yachiru over the rushing water. The girl eagerly stood, bowed shallowly in Mrs. Bradley's direction, and chirped with a heavy accent, "Thank you, Mrs. Bradley!"

Mrs. Bradley smiled gently at her and watched as she ran to catch up to Selim, who had begun to ascend the stairs.

When the pair disappeared from view, Mrs. Bradley left the dining room to join Mei in the kitchen. "Mei, thanks for helping with the dishes. I can take over now- you go prepare."

Mei put another dish on the rack and reached for the next dish, shaking her head. "This is the least I can do." She glanced at the older woman. "You seem tired."

Mrs. Bradley attempted a smile. "Yes, well... to tell the truth, I have no idea how I managed so well in my youth. Sometimes I think I'm too old to raise a teenager..."

She laughed to lighten the weight of the topic.

Mei said nothing. Perhaps she didn't know what to say. Mrs. Bradley was about to make an excuse to leave when Mei spoke. "You've done a wonderful job raising Selim. He couldn't ask for a better mother."

Another attempt at a smile. "Thank you for the reassurance." _But your words mean nothing, and faith can only take you so far. The only words that matter are those of Fuhrer Grumman and those of Selim. I've worked so hard, so long... yet, even with so much effort... I think-_

A seemingly loud clatter and the following sudden silence focused her attention back to her companion. Mei dried her hands on a cloth. "Mrs. Bradley, I'll be going now."

A kind mannered glance and a small smile. "Don't worry about Selim- I'll take care of him." With that, Mei walked away with a confident wave. (She had clearly taken a leaf out of one of the Elric brothers' books. Though from which one, Mrs. Bradley couldn't be sure; maybe it was from both.) The promise did little to calm her nerves. It wasn't that she didn't trust Mei- she did, and to a great extent. They had formed a strange but strong friendship over the years, and if there was one thing that Mrs. Bradley learned about her, it was that Mei kept her promises.

What, then, was she so worried about? It seemed that she was always worrying- even when she slept, she was plagued with dreams that hung on the edge of becoming nightmares. Even when Selim was in the same room as her, she was worried.

The widow watched water drip from the faucet. Each drop would cling to the metal for as long as it could, until gravity dragged it down into the sink. She reached out and caught one on her fingertip. The water distorted the light as it slipped off her finger and joined its brethren on the cold metal below. She dropped her hand to her side, eyes following each drop fall from the faucet's opening. Gravity was a law of nature- was she, like each drop of water, destined to fall as well? Was this the source of her worry?

Suddenly, an irrational anger surged up, so different from the quiet, muted emotions she felt normally. She wanted to hit something, hurt someone- why did she have to draw the short stick? She had always done what she felt was right! They had no right to make her go through this! She didn't deserve this never ending-

Realizing how childish her thoughts were, Mrs. Bradley abruptly stopped and cleared away the fog of anger, which was replaced with something close to shame. Breathing deeply and rhythmically, Mrs. Bradley slowly uncurled her fists. There was no room for self-pity in the life of a leader, or of anyone who hoped to do something memorable.

Selim had not slipped from her grasp just yet. There was still hope, and as her husband once told her, "As soon as you admit defeat, you lose the battle." _And that is one thing I will not- and cannot- do._

Determination set her back straight as she left the kitchen. She had an appointment to attend.

* * *

When they began to walk (or rather, Selim walked and Yachiru practically floated on the balls of her feet) down the hallway of the second floor and Yachiru judged it safe to talk, she asked, "Hey, Selim-chan, why do you have to go to the library today? There's one in this house, right?"

He took another bite of his bread, grimaced slightly, and swallowed. "Our library doesn't have what I'm looking for. And don't call me 'Selim-chan.' We barely even know each other."

"You don't call me 'Kusajishi-san,' so I can call you anything I like, _Selim-chan_. What are you working on?"

He glanced at her. "I thought we were going to keep to ourselves, Girl From Another World."

Guess that wasn't the right first thing to ask. "...How old are you, Selim-chan?"

"Fifteen." He stopped. "This is your room, isn't it, Yachiru?"

Yachiru stopped as well, looked at the door, and said, "Yup." Though, she really wasn't sure. All the doors looked the same; she really had to find a way to differentiate her room's door from all the others.

"...I'll see you later."

Yachiru blinked at his retreating back and hurried to match his pace.

Silence. Then, "What."

Unperturbed by the not-so-subtle annoyance in his voice, Yachiru grinned and asked, "Where's your room?"

He stopped at a half-open door and nudged the door open wider with his foot. "Here."

He entered the room and turned to face her, asking suddenly, "Do you have anywhere you want to go today?"

Yachiru blinked at the question and tilted her head. "It'd be nice to visit Paula. Why?"

"Good. Get Mei to go with you to visit Paula today." She waited for a moment, expecting him to address her question. He didn't, so she asked again,

"Why?"

"My research is confidential until I choose otherwise."

"...Alright. But-"

"No bargaining. I'm letting you live here, remember?" And without waiting for her to retort, he shut the door in her face.

Yachiru stared at the closed door for a few seconds, fuming, before making her way back to her room.

Once in her room, Yachiru pulled on the coat that Mei had left in her wardrobe. It fell to her knees and the sleeves covered her hands with quite a bit to spare, but the coat covered her clothes- a black t-shirt with glittery pink words printed on it and faded blue jeans- well. Her clothes were too ostentatious; apparently, the style of her clothes had yet to take hold.

After putting a pen and a pad of paper into one of the coat's many pockets, she pulled aside the curtains covering the window and pushed up the battered glass to let in the cool morning breeze. She never did like being inside- the air was stale, and she always felt like she was being confined. She stood at the window, savoring the cool wind caressing her face and the gentle warmth of the morning sun on her skin. Her eyes snapped open as she realized something, and her hand flew up to her cheek.  
She could feel as well as if she were alive_._ A grin spread itself across her face. In normal gigai, sensations that involved physical interaction with the body like touch and taste were muted, dulled. But with this gigai that Mayuri had so graciously made specially for her condition, it was like she really was alive again.

A movement from below caught her attention. A man wearing a uniform similar to one of a soldier stood with his partner in the yard, pointing up at her.

...That didn't look good.

She pulled back and slammed the window shut, pulling the curtains with such haste that one of them fluttered to the floor.

Covering the window with the still-intact curtain, Yachiru gathered up the fallen curtain and dumped it on her bed, knowing that she couldn't reach the bar above the window. Why did they have such horrible curtains anyway? These were just blankets hung on bars! (It was funny, in a way. They had such a huge house but couldn't afford decent curtains for the windows?)

After slipping on her shoes (which were a plain black and not in need of camouflaging), Yachiru hurried out the door, shutting it behind her quietly.

* * *

Mei stood next to the door, waiting for her two charges to come down the stairs. Yachiru, surprisingly, came down first. The coat she had donned was an attempt at hiding the clothes she wore underneath- this was obvious to her, but perhaps not so to strangers. After all, it was not too unusual to see younger children wear even ridiculously oversized coats or jackets courtesy of older family members.

Mei opened her mouth, intending to start a conversation, but her student beat her to it, asking, "Hey, can we visit the bakery today?"

"You mean the one near the- factories?"

Yachiru blinked. "Is that the one where Paula works?"

Ah. So she knew Paula? "Yup. We can visit after Selim is done with his work at the library."

Yachiru looked away, mumbling, "Actually, could we go while he's at the library?"

This was a problem. She couldn't have a guard take her place while she accompanied Yachiru, and she couldn't leave Yachiru with a guard, but she also couldn't be in two places at once. "Sorry, but would you be alright with going by yourself? I can't accompany you this time. I'll give you the directions to the bakery from here and from there to the library. I want you to meet up with us by three, alright?"

She watched as Yachiru's face fell and wanted to retract what she just said, but before she could, Yachiru agreed and pulled out a pen and a pad of paper from one of her coat's pockets.

Mei sketched a map and guided her through the steps, drawing arrows as she talked. When she finished, she looked at Yachiru and asked, "Understand?"

Yachiru smiled and nodded, taking the paper and pen from Mei. "Yup! I'll go now, then!"

And just like that, she was gone. The door closed behind her just as Selim appeared at the top of the staircase, all tidied up except for his tome, which hadn't improved much. "Who was that just now?"

"Yachiru. She needed to go to the bakery, so I gave her directions. She'll meet with us at the library at three or earlier."

Selim missed a step. Awkwardly, he grabbed the handrail, stopping himself from tumbling down the stairs but letting his book go in the process. The heavy tome hit the edge of a step and thunked loudly with every bump it hit on its way downstairs, spewing papers painted dark with ink every which way. It landed at Mei's feet, lying open. As Selim scrambled to collect his fallen notes, Mei cradled the book and eyed the pages it had opened to with vague interest.

Scanning the words, she couldn't make out why Selim would be carrying something like this around- it was just a book on alchemy, and nothing that Edward or Alphonse couldn't teach him at that. She was also certain that he had gotten the basics down at least a year ago. Another pair of hands took hold of the object in question.  
"Me- um, Ms. Chang, could I have my book back?"

Mei tried to meet Selim's eyes as she relinquished her hold on the book. "Sure."

Ignoring her probing look, Selim stuffed his sheaf of sheets back into the book and strode to the door. He glanced back at Mei as he opened it, saying, "Let's go, then."

Mei followed him into the dim yet bright outside, saying nothing. No doubt that book was coded. What could it contain, though, that would have Selim so focused on it? She would have to get her hands on it, somehow, and soon.

As she walked a pace behind Selim, she remembered what his adoptive mother had confided in her the night before: "_I'm running out of time."_

She looked at the teenager next to her, brimming with such confidence and drive, and felt a sense of loss.

* * *

Yachiru half skipped, half ran down the street, coat sleeves flapping in the wind as she spun around and took in the world around her. A light, tingling feeling spread through her body.

Still giddy with freedom, she made a turn at the next block and found her way into the downtown area, stopping next to a shop showcasing what Yachiru supposed were formal clothes: floor length dresses of a material that silvered in the light and sharply defined suits in drab shades of black and white.

She didn't think Paula's bakery was near a clothes store. Looking around, she didn't recognize even a single building. Coming down from the clouds, Yachiru plunged her hands into her pockets and, after a brief moment of worry, pulled out the paper.

She studied the map. The big box with the first arrow coming out of it was the Bradley estate... and the arrow turned... up... and there were boxes above and below the box, next to the arrow- more houses... And then the arrow turned to the left...?

Even after a good five minutes of staring at the map, reorienting it, and looking around, Yachiru couldn't make heads or tails of what she was supposed to do.

Hmph. She didn't need a map anyway: she was street-born and had a natural compass. Maps were for cowardly people who got their lackeys to fight for them- the softie rich people. And with that, Yachiru dropped the map, intending for it to fall into her coat's pocket.

A wind must have blown, because the notepad just missed the pocket opening and hit the cobblestone ground with a dry slap. Yachiru frowned at the inconvenience and crouched down to pick it up, subconsciously balancing on the balls of her feet.

As she stowed it away, Yachiru surveyed her surroundings again. Deciding to follow her innate compass, she ran down the street, making turns left and right whenever she felt it necessary. A good thirty or so minutes later, and Yachiru still had yet to find the bakery. Who knew this city could be so big?

She paused to once again look around for landmarks- and this time, she found what she was looking for. A few blocks down, there stood a somewhat concrete building- the school. She hurried toward it.

The pleasant scent of food soon changed her direction; as she neared the source, angry German reached her ears. A black-haired young man stood at the front. In one hand was a small basket of a few vegetables, fruits, and a quarter loaf of bread. His free hand gesticulated wildly as he spoke, accenting his displeasure. A young girl- perhaps, his daughter- who couldn't be more than four years old clung to his leg, staring up at the half-scared, half-worried worker standing behind the counter, who was attempting to pacify the young man.

The little girl tugged at the distraught young man's pant leg, asking in a wavering voice, "Big Brother, why aren't they giving us more food?"

...That was one huge age gap. But she supposed it wasn't unheard of.

At once, her older brother seemed to deflate. He sighed, running his free hand through his black-blue hair and shooting the worker a baleful glare. "Don't worry, Hotaru. We'll have to make do with what we have."

Hotaru shook her head emphatically. "But-"

He reached down, gently removed her arms from around his leg, and grasped her hand firmly. "Come on. We'll try again some other time." He led her out into the street.

Impulsively, Yachiru rushed to intercept them. "Wait!" They turned around, taking a survey of her attire as she spoke again. "You need more food, right? Wait here!"

She turned and stealthily made her way to the back of the store, where the next ragged group of people were taking their food handouts. As the worker handed them their rations, she slipped behind the counter, grabbed two baskets, and made her way outside again as unobtrusively as possible. She thrust the baskets toward the pair. "Here."

Hotaru looked at her brother for instructions. He didn't look at the baskets, staring only at Yachiru with wary eyes. "What are you doing?"

She tilted her head. As if he had to ask- it was obvious. "I'm helping you."

He let go of his sister's hand and took a basket from her. Hotaru took the cue and grabbed the other, hugging it protectively to her chest. "Thanks." A pause. "Would you like to join my family for lunch?"

Yachiru blinked. She wasn't due to meet up with the others until three, so why not?

* * *

The home of the Kishimoto siblings was in the slums, near the invisible line where the downtown area abruptly transitioned into the poorer part of town, on the third floor of a rickety, poorly constructed apartment building. The splintering door was jammed shut, and the older brother- Kishimoto Seiichi- had to shove the door open. It swung open and, hitting something in its path, rebounded to shut again. Seiichi stopped it with his arm and walked in, setting down his baskets before holding the door for Hotaru and Yachiru to enter. As she surveyed the room, Seiichi muttered, "Kusajishi-san, it's better not to take off your shoes."

Boxes were pushed against the badly painted walls, making the room seem even more cramped than it actually was. Neatly stacked books lay on a table fit only for two. A small cabinet was shoved into the far right corner, half-hidden behind the small metal stove next to an opening into another room, which was dark except for a dim light that streamed through, presumably from a lantern. There was no door, and soft mumbling floated out of the room. Sunlight from the opened window revealed the storm of dust motes in the air and brightened the room. Yachiru looked up, expecting to see a light bulb or lamp of some kind hanging from the ceiling. There was none.

As Seiichi shut the door with a sharp push behind Yachiru, he called softly, "Mother, we're home. We have a guest."

A feminine voice murmured something, and soon after, an average-height (short by Western standards) woman with a bun of black hair streaked with gray emerged from the room. In a tired voice, she half-heartedly snapped, "Gods above, what did my family do to deserve this? Seiichi-" She cut herself off as she caught sight of Yachiru.

Yachiru hated formalities. Nonetheless, she bowed slightly. "I go by Kusajishi Yachiru. Thank you for having me, Kishimoto-san. I hope-" Yachiru bit her lip. What was she supposed to say next again? She floundered for a lifeline as the silence grew longer. An image of Unohana floated past her mind's eye, mouthing the word 'inconvenience.' With relief, Yachiru continued,"-I hope my arrival is not an inconvenience." Didn't sound quite right, but whatever- it was close enough. She straightened and looked Mrs. Kishimoto in the eye. Mrs. Kishimoto, it seemed, was surprised. Whether or not it was pleasant remained to be seen, because her face soon smoothed into an almost blank mask.

"I invited her to join us for lunch as thanks for helping us... retrieve our food," said Seiichi as he moved the books from their place on the table to a chair and set his two baskets on the table. Hotaru insisted on lifting hers onto the table by herself.

Warmth trickled into Mrs. Kishimoto's face, softening her expression as she said, "I am Kishimoto Suzume. I apologize for the state of the dwelling- we've only just moved in, and haven't had the time to clear things up."

Yachiru beamed. "It's no problem. This place is very cozy." Unfortunately, she couldn't say the same about the atmosphere.

The statement was a neutral one and did not require the customary denial, so Mrs. Kishimoto looked at her son. They shared a meaningful look, and whatever had passed between them was not good. A look of worry passed across Seiichi's face. Mrs. Kishimoto excused herself and went back into the darkened room, followed by Hotaru. Seiichi set Yachiru down on the only empty chair and picked up the books from the other chair.

"Ichi-chan-" At the nickname, he stiffened. Yachiru hurriedly switched gears. "Kishimoto-san, are those your books?" She pushed two baskets of food up against the wall and picked up the third, holding it out.

He took the hint and placed the books onto the table, saying, "My school allowed me to borrow them. Would you like to look at them while I prepare lunch?"

Yachiru grinned, handing him the basket. "That would be great." She took the thinnest book, which sat on the top of the pile, looking at the strange letters printed neatly on the first page. The creaking of a cabinet being opened sounded behind her. After setting things up with the stove, Seiichi slid past her chair and rummaged through one of the open boxes.

She flipped a page languidly, eyeing the list of characters and numbers on what seemed to be a carefully annotated table of contents. "Hey, Kishimoto-san... what's this book about?"

Seiichi lifted some kind of pan-bowl cooking utensil and a ladle and turned around, glancing at the book she held as he moved to the stove. "Basics of alchemy."

"Oh." She flipped past the table of contents to a random page. A triangle on one of the lines split the flow of characters. Or maybe it was one of the characters that made up their language.

"What about the other books, then?"

"Mathematics, history, writing, stuff like that." Plop. Plop. Soft clinks of metal on metal.

"So-" A sudden moan of pain came from the side room, easily heard over the cracking of the fire and the sizzling of heated water. Yachiru twisted around. "What was that?"

"Ah, pay it no mind..." Murmurs, soft as they were, took on a tone of urgency. Worry made Seiichi restless. The ladle clanged against the pot as he stirred and shifted his feet.

Yachiru stood up, placing the book back on pile. She studied the surface of the table. "Is your father sick?"

"...I don't know." The ladle clanked against the pot loudly. Water sloshed.

It was so bad that he physically jerked at the question. Wow. "What're his symptoms? I might be able to do something about it, depending on what it is."

"...Not my father. And-" He let go of the ladle, turning his back on the flame to look down at her with guarded eyes, "-what can you do about it, Kusajishi-san?"

Ah. Good question. "I can help," she repeated. "I might be able to do something about it."

As she spoke, she walked past him to enter the room. Seiichi didn't follow. Seeing the blankets that covered almost all of the ground, Yachiru slipped her shoes off, placing them neatly next to the doorway.

The lamp sat near the far right corner of the room from where Yachiru stood, casting a yellow glow about the room. Mrs. Kishimoto leaned over the flushed face of a boy who was probably around six or seven, wringing a cloth gently over a bucket and murmuring for him to stop moving. Yachiru padded closer, carefully walking around futons and various other objects that lay strewn on the ground. She crouched next to the distraught mother as Hotaru, who was napping on the opposite side of the room, shifted and whimpered, "Daddy, why didn't..."

The boy blinked with dazed eyes that seemed without distinct irises. "Mommy?" His voice was raspy and barely louder than a croak. His eyes drifted to focus on Yachiru. "Ghost?" He stirred, as if trying to relieve sore muscles, and turned his head away as he succumbed to a harsh coughing fit. Mrs. Kishimoto folded the cloth, turning it over and over in her hands.

"Shush, Kouta. Don't waste your energy." She tenderly pushed his hair out of his eyes, placing the cloth on his glistening forehead.

"Cold..." Kouta sucked in a rattling breath and sniffed, trying to breathe through his nose. "Is Dad... is he back?"

His mother attempted a smile. The light accented the worry lines on her face. "Not yet, but he'll return soon. Don't worry, my dear son, everything will be alright."

Kouta smiled faintly and closed his eyes with a raspy sigh. "Hotaru... Big Brother... they..." But before he could complete his sentence, he trailed off, evened breathing signalling that he had fallen back asleep.

Yachiru watched the boy's still figure for a second, gears turning. Flushed face, stuffy nose, cold feeling, cough- no problem. She turned to Mrs. Kishimoto, who had the bowl of water in her lap and was rubbing it anxiously, and grinned. "Don't worry, Kishimoto-san, I can get the treatment, easy!"

The woman brightened for a moment, but quickly wilted again as a thought struck her. "What's the price?"

"No price! I just need to get back to Seireitei! It'll be quick."

"Soul Society?" the woman repeated,watching her with vague alarm.

At this point, Seiichi poked his head into the room long enough to say, "There's no Seireitei in Asahi."

Rising Sun? Yachiru blurted out, "Don't you mean Japan?"

"Nihon? Is that where Seireitei is?"

"No, Seireitei is..." Yachiru frowned. She didn't really know where it was, come to think of it. "It's near Japan." Or the equivalent of their dimension's Japan, anyway.

Mrs. Kishimoto watched Yachiru, concerned. "There is no Nihon, Yachiru."

The girl spun around to face Mrs. Kishimoto, exclaiming, "Yes, there is! Just not in this world!"

There was a loud clang, followed by the sound of splashing water and a faint fizzling. Seiichi appeared in the doorway, hand pressing down on the other. Mindless of the red blooming on his skin, he asked seriously, "What did you say?"

"..." Yachiru stared at the thick blankets covering Kouta's body. Maybe she shouldn't have said that. If she had just been allowed one of those funny memory-changing toys, this wouldn't be so tough.

"I know an alchemist who knows how to go to the other world. We can go see him later today."

Yachiru turned to look at Seiichi, mouth forming a round 'o'.

Seiichi's lips quirked in a half-smile as he said, "Kusajishi-san's been doing a lot of turning. Perhaps we can take this conversation to the table?"

At the hint of lunch, Yachiru hopped to her feet, the question she was about to ask shoved to the back of her mind.

* * *

Time passed quickly, and only when the clock tower's bells rang four times did Yachiru realize just how much time had passed. She hurriedly straightened from her bent position over the alchemy book. "It's already four o' clock! I have to go!"

Seiichi straightened as well. "Will you be at the abandoned lab tomorrow morning, then? The Quicksilver Alchemist is severe about punctuality, so don't be late."

"Of course!" She smiled and made her way to the door. Wrenching the door open, however, she came face to face with none other than Selim.

**A/N: There are a lot of OCs introduced in this chapter, aren't there? If you have any worries/questions about these guys (or anyone, or anything), please don't hesitate to tell me!**

**See you all come the next update, which will hopefully be up faster than this one was!**

**Oh, and Nihon is Japan in Japanese. Seireitei is translated to Soul Society, I believe. And 'asahi' is rising sun in Japanese, according to Google Translate. It's also, to clarify, the name of the FMA(B) universe's Japan, and where the Kishimoto family comes from. According to me.  
**

**Also, for some reason, ffnet doesn't allow me to have double-hyphens/dashes. I was recently informed of the differences between hyphens and dashes, and my misuse was bothersome for the reader, so apologies for the ongoing minor inconvenience.  
**


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